


Mail Order Familiar

by Amethystaris, BlueMasquerade



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Western, Dean/Cas Big Bang (Supernatural), M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, familiar!dean, witch!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-06 02:37:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 61,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21219188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amethystaris/pseuds/Amethystaris, https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueMasquerade/pseuds/BlueMasquerade
Summary: Dean Winchester was a Familiar meant for the wide-open spaces of the frontier. An ad in the paper combined with increasing pressure from his grandfather to sign a contract with a Witch of Samuel’s choice was just the motivation Dean needed to leave the big city behind.What he expects to find is a year of hard work and rough living cleansing the land of magics that corrupted it centuries ago. What he doesn’t expect is that the Witch waiting for him just might be exactly what he has been looking for his whole life.Castiel Angelus is cautiously optimistic that the Familiar he’s agreeing to work with, sight unseen, will be a good fit for his power. He’s chosen to work on the frontier in order to escape his demanding family and their unceasing ambitions.He finds that Dean’s compatibility is beyond his wildest dream. Their bonds, both magical and personal, will be tested to the limits as they encounter the source of the corruption and seek to defeat it, before it’s too late.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time, the two of us took a road trip. To pass the time we tossed ideas back and forth, mixing different genres and tropes together to see what would inspire a story idea. Mail Order Familiar was born. We returned from vacation, and the story sat languishing. Two years later, Blue (in need of a 2019 DCBB story) said "I want to finish Mail Order Familiar." Well okay, then. We plotted. We wrote. We argued (surprisingly little). We wrote some more, and after some 2,800 round trip miles along Interstate 35 to bookend the process, here we are posting a completed story. 
> 
> Thank you to the mods for a great challenge, and thank you so much to Hitori Alouette for amazing artwork. It really brings the atmosphere of the story to life and we both love it so much.  
_________________
> 
> Blue here now! I want to echo Amethystaris' kudos to the mods and to Hitori Alouette, such beautiful artwork that fits the mood so perfectly. I'm absolutely thrilled by it.
> 
> Here's the link to her Tumblr post--please stop by and let her know if you love the art!  
[Link to Art](https://hitori-alouette.tumblr.com/post/188868270158/art-for-mail-order-familiar-by-amethystaris)
> 
> We hope you enjoy!

** **

**-Prologue-**

  
Dean Winchester clutched the newspaper advertisement in his hand, staring across the cobbled street at the office of Balthazar Angelus, Esquire. Nervous sweat pooled at the base of his throat, and his chest felt tight. He uncrumpled the paper and looked down at it again.

_**WANTED: FAMILIAR**_  
Witch seeks Familiar  
To partner in the Western Frontier  
Must have a shifter form suitable for  
Untamed environment. Must be willing  
To commit to Minimum One year  
Partnership. Travel expenses paid by Witch.  
For consideration, see Balthazar Angelus, Esquire  
207 South Main Street, New Avalon

Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and crossed the street, weaving his way between the buggies, wagons, and carriages conducting their business in the city. He didn’t often come to the center of the city like this. The crush of people and animals tended to make him feel confined, and the horses spooked easily around him if he wasn’t careful.

He’d worn his best clothes, the good wool trousers and crisp cotton shirt with the dark brown broadcloth vest, the edges subtly embroidered with a simple leaf pattern, and his good boots. They’d started out polished, though by the time he’d walked through the muddy side streets after stabling his horse at the livery, they looked decidedly worse for wear.

The door to the law office was painted a rich black lacquer, shiny and smooth, with expensive brass fittings and stained glass inset. Well. If the lawyer was an Angelus, then he was associated with the premiere Witch family in all of the country. He could afford stained glass.

Dean opened the door firmly. He was the perfect candidate for this Witch. Whoever he was. Or she.

The woman behind the desk looked up, adjusting her spectacles as she looked him over. Her expression was smoothly neutral. “Good morning. How may I help you, sir?”

“Good morning, ma’am,” he said, removing his hat politely. He gave her his charming smile. She was probably close to his mother’s age, but that didn’t mean a bit of flirting would be amiss. “I’m here to inquire about the advertisement seeking a Familiar. It says to speak to Mr. Balthazar Angelus.”

Her gaze turned more assessing, then she nodded once, briskly, and stood up, her skirts rustling with the movement. “And your name?”

“Winchester. Dean Winchester, ma’am.”

“Have a seat, Mr. Winchester. I’ll go see if Mr. Angelus is available to speak with you.”

“Thank you.” He looked around, spotting a finely carved bench across from her desk, and seated himself. The office was paneled with dark wood wainscoting, and the windows draped with dark red velvet edged with gold fringe. He realized he was tapping his heel against the floor and forced himself to stop. It wouldn’t do to show how nervous he was. At least it wasn’t the kind of nervous that made him feel threatened, so he wasn’t fighting to control an instinctual need to shift.

It seemed like hours but was probably only a handful of minutes before the lady returned. “Mr. Angelus will see you now. Please follow me.”

She led him through the interior doorway to a short hallway to another door which opened into a handsomely appointed office.

“Mr. Winchester.” The gentleman behind the desk stood and extended his hand. His hands were smooth, clearly indicative of a life spent in intellectual rather than physical pursuits. He had an accent that suggested he’d either been born overseas in the old world or else thought it made him sound more cultured, and a thin, precisely groomed mustache. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir. I understand you are inquiring about the advertisement for a Familiar in the frontier lands.”

“That’s right, sir. I am.”

The lawyer sat down and gestured to the horsehair-upholstered chair opposite his desk. Dean sat as well, keeping his posture upright, toying with his hat.

“Winchester. Any relation to Mary Campbell?”

Dean wasn’t exactly surprised by the question. Most of the Witch circles in New Avalon knew the story, if not the entire eastern seaboard. Not as many associated Mary Campbell with John Winchester. His father wasn’t from a well-known Witch lineage. The Angelus Witches didn’t have any reason to take note of him.

“Yes, sir. My mother.”

“So you’re a Campbell through the maternal line.”

“I am. We’re not particularly close to the Campbell side.”

“Indeed. But I trust the breeding is true. The Campbells are known to be strong Familiars, and thus highly desired. You could form a partnership with any Witch out there, wealth and influence at your fingertips. You could have a position in the very halls of government, or the centers of industry.”

“Politics and business don’t appeal to me any more than they did to my mother.” He failed to entirely suppress a shudder of distaste. “Look, Mr. Angelus, it seems it would be in both of our interests to cut through the posturing and get to the point. You’re right, I’m a Campbell through my mother, and my grandfather isn’t inclined to forget that. He’s been approached repeatedly by various Witches inquiring about the availability of Campbell Familiars for potential contracts or bonding, and he refuses to stop including my name when making partnership arrangements. He is becoming more and more insistent. The contractual terms on offer are quite lucrative.”

“And Samuel Campbell retains a portion of the contract fee, as the agent through which the contract is arranged. There have been… rumors.”

“Rumors that he sometimes skirts the laws regarding consent, claiming that as the patriarch of the family he has the right to make fortuitous arrangements for his descendants, yes.”

“And there have been other rumors that my own cousins are seeking powerful Familiars to partner with themselves and their adherents as they jostle amongst themselves for position.”

“Precisely. Given those rumors, it is in my best interests to absent myself from contention.” Despite what Grandfather Campbell might claim, an unwilling Familiar couldn’t be forced to honor even a contract, let alone a bonding. That didn’t mean that the pressure exerted would be easy to withstand, and Samuel Campbell was willing to deal with the less scrupulous Witches if the price was right.

“Hm,” Mr. Angelus said, considering.

“So now you know why I’m interested in this contract. What more can you tell me about the Witch I’d be partnering with?” Dean wasn’t entirely comfortable dealing with an Angelus lawyer. There were risks that he was representing himself dishonestly. Sam had warned him to be careful, that maybe this was some scheme to nab Dean and make him disappear under the guise of sending him to the frontier.

Dean thought the risk was worthwhile, though. He needed to get out of New Avalon.

“One more question before that, if I may,” Mr. Angelus deferred. “The advertisement specifies that the Familiar’s shifter form must be suitable for the frontier. There is little in the way of civilized amenities, and living conditions can be quite primitive and difficult. What is your other form?”

“Mountain lion. Big cat. Not exactly well suited to New Avalon society.”

“Mm.” The lawyer rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Frankly, the thought of being out in the wilds is exciting. And I don’t mind a rough lifestyle. My family has taken long hunting trips to the northern mountains a couple times a year. That life suits me far better than the city.”

“You are not alone, Mr. Winchester, in wishing to absent yourself from notice by either Michael or Lucifer. The Witch you would be working with is Castiel, another cousin of mine. I’ll not sugar coat it, Mr. Winchester. The frontier is dangerous. Cassie is in need of a new Familiar because his prior partner proved a touch too delicate for the life and lost her own. I will admit that ‘delicate’ is the last word I would use to describe you, however a few hunting trips a year does not prove over much to me.”

Dean felt a twinge of unease that this Witch was also an Angelus. Not all of the rumors surrounding the Angelus Witches were exactly benign. There were whispers among the Familiar community that some of their numbers had disappeared after partnering with an Angelus, but those rumors were unconfirmed. Still, any Witch on the frontier had to have an entirely different agenda than those who stalked the halls of power, gathering up wealth and influence.

“It’s dangerous, I get it. I do. I would rather live my life on my own terms out there than by Samuel Campbell’s terms here.”

“Let’s get down to the details then, shall we?” Mr. Angelus pulled a contract out of one of the drawers of his desk, and laid it between the two of them. “Article I: The party in the first part…”

-oOo-

The Winchester town home sat on a quiet street outside the central ring of high society yet still a comfortable distance from the busy docks of New Avalon. Dean had been known to spend a lot of time in the dockside taverns amongst less genteel company. These last few days, though, found him more often in the small back garden.

He sat there now, face tilted up towards the sun, eyes closed. “You really are a cat,” his younger brother Sam commented, as he sat down next to Dean.

“Not much sun to be had the middle of the city, Sammy. Taking advantage while I can.”

“Yeah, I know. Dean. I get it, I do. I’m not happy about this, but I’m not pissed like Dad is. I’m not going to ask you if you’re sure anymore, or tell you that you’re crazy. We both know you’re crazy, but we also both know that you’re sure. So. You sit here soaking up as much of home as you can while you can, and I’ll sit here, too, soaking up as much brother time as I can while I can.”

“Contract is only for a year,” Dean pointed out. Reminded them both. “I’ll come back then, either way.” Either for a visit, or returning home to stay.

“I am taking that as a promise. Who knows, maybe I’ll come see you.”

“I don’t think the wild frontier is ready for Sam and Jessica Winchester.” Dean knew he wasn’t ready for his brother and his bondmate to be anywhere near the dangers of the frontier.

“Sam?” Mary Sandra Campbell Winchester’s voice floated down to them from the back of the house, shortly followed by the woman herself. “Have you seen your brother? Oh, there you are. Dean. I’ve gone and negotiated space for one more trunk for you. You’ll want some luxuries on top of the necessities. If you don’t go off and choose your own soap I’m packing for you. Apple blossom would be lovely. Maybe some lavender.”

Dean groaned. “Mom.” Maybe he could get away with taking two trunks on the train, but what about after that? A wagon or coach might not be so willing to accommodate, and from what Mr. Angelus said, even the coach wouldn’t run all the way out to where he’d be living.

Still, if he couldn’t bring everything with him, he might at least be able to sell the extra for more cash. The Winchesters weren’t wealthy, but they weren’t destitute, either. John and Mary were a formidable Witch-Familiar pair even with their avoidance of all things political and their free-lance, temporary contract lifestyle.

“Don’t ‘Mom’ me. Just because you’re going to be out in the frontier doesn’t mean you can’t keep clean. And your cat tongue doesn’t get everything.”

“Do we have any of the sandalwood? I’m not going out there smelling like a flower.”

“If we don’t Sam will go to the Emporium and buy some for you.”

“Mom.” It was Sam’s turn to complain.

Dean grinned. “While you’re there you can buy some of that fancy-ass perfume for Jessica.”

Sam smacked him. Dean smacked him back, and soon they were rolling on the ground wrestling. Mary rolled her eyes and went back inside.

Eventually Dean got Sam in a headlock, holding it just long enough to confirm his victory before releasing him.

They both stood and brushed the dust and twigs off. “Gonna miss you,” Sam said.

Dean sighed with the change in mood and met his brother’s gaze. “Yeah, I know. Gonna miss you, too. I’ll write. Not sure how long it will take letters to get here, or how reliable they are, but I’ll write.”

“I will too. I suppose a year isn’t really that long.”

It was. They both knew it. But Dean still nodded in agreement, pushing down the sudden ache of homesickness. He hadn’t even left yet. He had no business being homesick.

-oOo-

Two days later, the five Winchesters stood together on the train platform in New Avalon, along with Dean’s two trunks and the satchel he wore over his shoulder. Most of the contents of the trunks were things that he hoped would be useful on the frontier, not just for himself but for the community he would be joining. There was a box that Mr. Angelus had asked him to bring to his cousins, and then there were the luxury items Mary had packed for him.

Most of the other people at the station left them a bubble of space, unconsciously responding to the aura of power surrounding two Witches and three Familiars--particularly with two sets of mated, bonded pairs. A pair bond wasn’t that unusual between Witches and Familiars, but combined with a mating? That was rare indeed.

Black puffs of smoke formed on the horizon, coupled with the dull roar of the approaching train. Jessica turned in to Sam’s shoulder, sniffling. He wrapped his arm around her in comfort.

Mary took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a long moment, centering herself. “You will do well,” she said. “As much as I will miss you, this is the right decision for you. You’re strong and well-trained as a Familiar, and your shift form is well-suited for the frontier. You have the skills, training, and instincts to not only survive, but to thrive. Just remember to be cautious, until you know the peculiarities of your new home. And remember that despite having signed a contract, if the Witch awaiting you is the wrong sort, you just turn yourself around and come back home, you hear?” She adjusted his collar, then patted his chest.

“Yes, Mama,” Dean replied, wrapping her in his arms and hugging her fiercely. He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “I love you.”

As soon as he released her, John pulled him into a tight hug. “I’m proud of you, son,” he said. “I’m still not anywhere near happy about this, but that doesn’t mean I’m not proud of you and what you’ve become. You keep that charm on you, no matter your form.” He touched the protection amulet suspended on a leather thong around Dean’s neck. He and Mary had worked the original protections, and then Sam and Jess had enhanced it with their own unique strengths.

“Thank you, sir,” Dean said, returning the embrace. “That means a lot to me.”

Activity at the platform picked up as the other people noticed the train arriving, a little after heightened Familiar senses had. Jess stepped away from Sam to take her turn hugging Dean and kissing him on the cheek.

Dean stroked her back, lightly tugging the long blonde braid. “You and Sammy take care of each other, yeah? And you watch out for him when I’m not around.”

“Always have,” she replied, her voice breaking. “I hope the Witch waiting for you is a good man. If he isn’t, we’ll hunt him down.”

Dean chuckled. “Always the fierce little hawk.”

And then it was Sam. He didn’t say anything, just hauled Dean into his arms, resting his head on his shoulder. It never failed to amaze Dean how his baby brother had ended up taller than him, and bigger. Damned gangly moose. Neither one of them really had to say anything. They’d already said everything there was to say, and the things unspoken were still understood. Sam’s fingers clutched at the fabric of Dean’s coat, unwilling to release him, until finally the train squealed to a stop. The porters started loading luggage, and the conductors called for passengers to board.

Dean couldn’t speak past the huge lump in his throat, so he settled for a brisk nod, drinking in the last sight of the people most dear to him in all the world, then he waved and stepped onto the train and into his new life.


	2. Chapter 2

Balthazar’s letter was only able to give a vague arrival date for Castiel’s new Familiar. There were far too many vagaries of travel to consider. For that reason, Castiel arrived at Rockville, the nearest town of any size, a week before Mr. Winchester’s expected arrival with plans to stay up to a month waiting on the stagecoach. There was plenty of business to conduct in town in the meantime, even if he did get fidgety thinking of all the ways he was needed at the Willow River outpost. Gabriel and Charlie could handle things without him for a few weeks. This was important, after all.

He’d suggested that someone else meet Mr. Winchester here, so that he could continue his work, but Gabe convinced him otherwise. His brother had made the point that while he could still work some magic without a Familiar, he was severely hampered having to work on his own, worn thin by relying mostly on his own energy throughout the winter. They’d be better served by Castiel meeting his new Familiar sooner rather than later, and using the travel time between Rockville and Willow River to get him up to speed both with the challenges they faced and to start the process of learning how to work together as a pair.

The description he had received of Dean Winchester was frustratingly brief. Mid-twenties, fit, shifter form suitable for frontier work. It was barely more information than that yes, he meets criteria stated in the ‘Wanted’ advertisement. The length of time it took correspondence to make a round trip, however, would mean that the Familiar himself would arrive before Balthazar’s reply to a demand for more information. He suspected his cousin believed himself to be amusing with the brevity of information provided. Though he did not expect a reply in a timely manner, he spent a good hour of his time here at the settlement penning a response that was in turns grateful for conducting the interviewing and scathing for the dearth of detail in the report of hire.

As typical in the spring, there had been a lot of rain. The primitive roads west of the rail terminus were questionable under the best conditions; in the spring, they became muddy and even more difficult to travel. Castiel was not surprised when the stagecoach arrived some two days late. Really, two days was far better than he had allowed for. He waited on the boardwalk just outside the post office as the coach pulled in, caked in mud and laden with trunks piled atop the roof. The trunks were tied down with a net of ropes. 

The first passengers handed down off of the coach Castiel dismissed. His Sight showed them to be neither Witch nor Familiar. He began to be concerned Mr. Winchester was not on this coach after all when the final passenger disembarked.

He was, quite simply, stunning.

Broad shoulders filled out his dark red work shirt, and his arms were muscular without having the bulges of a blacksmith. His waist and hips were narrow, his legs slightly bowed. But the truly breathtaking aspect was his face, perfectly proportioned. His hair was overly long, a middling brown with golden sun streaks.

He looked around, uncertainty in the way he glanced between the townsfolk greeting the stage, searching for anyone who stood out. When he reached Castiel their gazes locked. Castiel’s Witch energy sparked in a way he’d never felt before, stunning in its intensity. It literally rocked him back on his heels.

Mr. Winchester hopped down the last step to the ground and moved towards Castiel. His tongue flicked out to moisten his perfectly bow-shaped upper lip. Now that he was closer Castiel could see that his eyes were the green of summer grass, and he had a generous sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of his nose and over his flushed cheeks. Castiel shifted slightly. 

Well. Somehow he’d never considered that his new Familiar would be astonishingly attractive. That could be a complication. Castiel swallowed as the man closed the distance between them and stopped an arm’s length away.

“Sir,” Winchester said, bobbing his chin briefly in polite greeting. His voice was rough, dry from the travel, but still sent shivers down Castiel’s spine. “Dean Winchester,” he introduced himself.

“Hello, Mr. Winchester,” Castiel greeted him, extending his hand. He hoped Winchester didn’t notice the slight tremble. “I am Castiel Angelus, at your service.”

At the confirmation that he was indeed the man Winchester was to meet, the younger man relaxed, his mouth curving into a smile as bright as daybreak. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.” He rolled his shoulders after a brief yet firm handshake, tensed and released various muscle groups as inconspicuously as he could.

“The pleasure is mine. I cannot begin to express my gratitude at your willingness to come here to work with me. I look forward to learning how this partnership will manifest. Shall we collect your luggage? I have a room at the boarding house, if you are amenable to sharing.”

“Sharing a real room with just one other person sounds like luxury accommodations after being cooped in the stage for two weeks. The train before that was marginally better. At least I had room to stretch out my legs.”

“But still not to your liking, I am sure, if you were unable to find opportunity to shift.” Castiel had known Familiars all his life, some better than others. He knew that while a Familiar did not biologically _ have _ to shift, being constrained to one’s human form for lengthy time periods could be unpleasant, particularly if the environment was unsuited for the shift form. A Familiar with an aquatic form was never going to enjoy being in a desert, and a shifter with an avian form would never like being stuck indoors.

“That’s for d--danged sure.” Winchester turned towards the growing pile of luggage the stagecoach driver was removing from the roof of the stage. “These two are mine,” he said, indicating two healthy sized trunks. “I know it might be too much to transport the rest of the way, but I reckoned whatever we couldn’t take I could sell for extra coin.”

“I came with two horses. One for each of us and also a mule as a pack animal. The pathway doesn’t easily accommodate a wagon with any sort of speed,” Castiel replied.

“Horses generally take a little time to get used to me. They don’t react all that well to having a predator riding on their backs, though some can get used to it in time. So if it works better, could use two as pack animals and I could shift and keep pace far enough away that they can relax.”

This was the opportunity Castiel had been waiting for. “My cousin Balthazar’s communique was frustratingly vague. He neglected to specify what form that would be.”

Winchester cocked his head to the side and got a mischievous glint in his eye. “Yeah? Well then. Maybe I’ll just show you. Once we’re not out here in the public eye.” People knew about Witches and Familiars, but most didn’t knowingly come into contact with them without it setting off their nerves.

Castiel narrowed his eyes. “You could just tell me.”

“I could, but that wouldn’t be as much fun, would it.” He grinned and turned to the luggage pile, exchanging a few words and a coin with the coach driver while Castiel waited. He nodded towards the other passengers as well.

He and Castiel each took one of the two trunks. Winchester handled his with great ease. Castiel found the other heavy, but manageable. The trip to Rockville followed by a few days of rest while waiting for the stagecoach meant he had been able replenish his magical energy to near full. He used just a trickle of that magic to be able to carry his trunk as effortlessly as Winchester managed the other, ignoring the small voice in his head that asked why he felt it was necessary to try and impress the other man with his physical prowess.

This was different. Nora had been stronger than many female humans, but her shift form had been a crow, so her abilities tended more towards enhanced vision over enhanced strength. Castiel had been physically stronger than she was, and was physically stronger than most of the people at the settlement. Watching Dean lift the trunk, knowing he was strong enough to do so, was unsettling. Incredibly appealing, but unsettling.

-oOo-

It felt fantastic to be able to stretch his legs. Dean had spent as much time as he could riding on top of the coach to avoid the stuffiness of the interior. That was fine, but nothing like knowing that the stagecoach part of the journey was well and truly over. He didn’t particularly care for being in forced proximity to smelly strangers for days at a time. He could be charming and flirty, both of which he’d used to advantage during the trip, but damn, it was good to be at his destination. Suddenly waiting a year for the return trip held a lot more appeal. 

As did Castiel Angelus. Avoiding one Angelus by running to another was, on the surface, nonsensical. A good portion of his tension while riding in the stagecoach could be attributed to his questions about the Witch he had signed a contract to partner with. There had been too much time to second-guess his decision. What if he was wrong? What if this Angelus was just like the others, and the lawyer had lied? He had some defenses against a Witch before any contracts were signed. Hell, he had some afterwards, too; they were just dangerous to himself as well. There were things he knew that most Familiars were never taught. Mary Campbell Winchester didn’t believe in shielding her children from the seedier side of life. She knew better than most just what some Witches were capable of.

In fairness, there were times that a Familiar could take advantage of an unsuspecting Witch as well. There were reasons that contracts were considered partnerships rather than servitude. 

Still, the Angelus Witches had a reputation for a good reason. Without knowing the reasons that Castiel Angelus had chosen to come to the frontier rather than live a privileged life back on the east coast, Dean couldn’t know what he was letting himself in for. 

All of that particular tension drained away upon meeting the Witch. Dean prided himself on being a good judge of character, and first impressions were favorable. There was a spark there, right away. A connection. Castiel was also gorgeous. He stood out among the rest of the townsfolk immediately, even without that indefinable aura that screamed Witch to someone as sensitive to magical energies as Dean was. He was tall and fit, handsome, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes. He’d never seen such a clear blue before. His eyes were striking, no question about that.

Dean shifted his trunk slightly as he waited for Castiel to lead him from the stagecoach to their destination.

Rockville was small enough that he could easily guess which building was the boarding house. Even so, he allowed Castiel to pass in front of him and lead the way. The view was well worth it. The long coat he wore swung with every step he took, shifting around his long legs, moving around his rear to give tantalizing hints of its shape. His hat concealed most of his hair, though a few wayward dark tufts curled against the base of his neck.

Castiel stepped up onto the front porch and stamped his feet to dislodge as much of the dirt and mud as he could from his boots. He set the trunk down and opened the door before picking it up again. “After you,” he said politely. Dean liked his voice. It was low and rough, though cultured and polite enough. Something about it made a little lick of heat curl low inside him.

“Thank you kindly,” he said, sidling through the open doorway to avoid banging the oversized trunk against the wood of the door. Judging by the dents and scratches not everyone was so careful.

The whole town was unlike what he was accustomed to. New Avalon was all brick and stone and where there was wood, it was carefully planed to exact measurements, then painted or whitewashed. Windows were glassed in, and if there wasn’t glass, there were at least shutters, usually painted in a contrasting color. Here almost all of the buildings were some sort of plaster he was unfamiliar with, interspersed occasionally with rough wood construction.

“Our room is on the second floor,” Castiel said. The first floor was a tap room, nearly empty this time of day. A staircase nestled against one side of the room, and the Witch led them there, and up. The stairs creaked under the weight, but were sturdy enough.

Dean set his trunk down as soon as they were inside the room. Once Castiel followed him in and set the other trunk down, it felt downright cramped in the space. Despite that, Dean didn’t feel the itch under his skin to shift, to move, to stretch. Something about Castiel soothed the worst of his restlessness.

“What time does the tap room downstairs open?” Dean asked, as he looked around the small room. His stomach grumbled a complaint. Food wasn’t exactly plentiful on the long coach ride, and he was always hungry. Traveling with others didn’t facilitate shifting and doing any hunting on his own.

“Not until dinner,” Castiel answered. “Hungry, are you? It is that time of day if we simply walk along we are sure to be invited for any number of meals with the only price being a bit of gossip. You will be particularly popular, having just arrived from the east.”

“Got it all figured out, huh Cas?” Dean smirked. The other man startled and shot him a glance at the nickname. Dean briefly wondered if he’d taken too much of a liberty in using a nickname, but damned if he was going to apologize. Besides, he rather enjoyed poking at the Witch. “All right, let’s go swindle the local folk out of a meal.” Dean didn’t believe it would be that easy. He lived in a big city where neighbors weren’t precisely neighborly. At least, not so far as to easily invite each other into their homes. 

Turned out that Castiel was right. They barely made it half a block before being invited in to share lunch with news-starved townsfolk. Castiel had apparently spoken with these folk before, as he’d been in Rockville for some days before the stagecoach arrived.

-oOo-

Dining with the townfolk was a revelation. Winchester had a real talent for sharing news without sprinkling personal details into his stories. He was charming, personable, and distant all at the same time. Oftentimes one could guess what a Familiar’s animal form was through personality traits and mannerisms. Dean Winchester, however, was baffling to Castiel. He was both frustrated and intrigued. Even more so after he had refused to tell him what his shift form was. Castiel did not contribute much to the conversation, content to listen and watch.

“Now I feel a little bad for not paying more attention to everything happening back home,” Winchester commented as they finally made their way back out to the street, comfortably full. He stretched and rubbed his stomach. “You get a lot of news from your cousin Balthazar? Maybe I’ll ask my mom to fill me in on as many topics as she can fit in one letter. We going to be coming back here often?”

“It is not generally I who makes the trip to town, no,” Castiel answered. “My talents are needed elsewhere, but if you enjoy it we can make a point of it on occasion.”

“I enjoy peach cobbler, is what I enjoy. You have some of that in your settlement?”

“If we do not now, I take it that we will.” They started a slow walk back to the boarding house.

“Well, yeah. Cas. No one wants to live where there is no dessert.”

“Cas?” He started to wonder if the outpost was ready for Dean Winchester, and suspected the answer was no.

Winchester looked sidelong at him, his eyes framed by ridiculously long lashes. “Is that not okay? I reckon we’re going to be spending a lot of time together. ‘Mr. Angelus’ or even ‘Castiel’ gets to be a mouthful. You can call me Dean. Winchester makes me look around for my father.”

“Yes… we will be together a great deal. Cas is fine.” It was certainly far preferable to Cassie.

After a silence that started to stretch on too long, Castiel began to muse aloud. “The outpost isn’t so old that we have mature fruit trees. We have apples, but peaches might be difficult to obtain. Not impossible, perhaps, if someone is willing to send some canned. Or dried might be easier. Do reconstituted dried peaches work in peach cobbler? Even sugar is precious.” He considered further. “If sugar isn’t already on the list of things I am supposed to bring back with me, it can be added. If peach cobbler is important to you.”

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say ‘important’,” Dean said. “I could handle apple pie instead.”

“Which would also require sugar. Upon further reflection, I am quite certain that sugar is already on the list. My brother has a fierce sweet tooth and would not neglect what he considers a staple food.”

“Your brother?” Dean asked. 

It would appear Balthazar was just as scant with the information he gave to Dean as he was with what he sent to Castiel. “Gabriel, yes. He and his Familiar Charlie are the other pair we will be working with.” 

Dean hesitated a long moment before responding. He wanted to ask more about this other Witch/Familiar pair, but this wasn't the time or place. He opted for going back to the topic of desserts. “What about seeds? Would take a while, but you’d eventually have the fruit. Weather seems like it would handle it okay. Sugar might be more difficult. Guess your job isn’t to actually settle the place, but make sure people can.”

“Our job,” Castiel corrected.

“Right. Our job. Hey, you mind I take a nap?” Dean asked as they arrived back at their room.

“Oh. Um. No. No, I don’t mind. I’ll get some more business done. The sooner we can leave, the better.” Castiel backed out of the room, closing the door gently behind him. In truth, spending a little bit of time away from Dean would be a good thing. He could gather some perspective.

Really, this went far better than he could have even hoped for. Dean seemed capable. He was polite and personable. Charming, even. It was true that the two of them hadn’t yet worked together, but it felt as though there was a good foundation to build off of. Castiel felt an affinity for Dean, an immediate connection. They already felt comfortable together, and that shouldn't be trivialized. For the first time since Nora’s death, he allowed himself to believe that things might actually work out well.

He patted the pockets of his coat, felt the crinkle of paper in the inside upper pocket and pulled out the list. People knew that his reason for coming out here was to meet Dean, but the trip to civilization and the market was rare and difficult enough that combining it with purchasing supplies only made sense. He had limited space, unlike when anyone made the trip with full team and wagon. That generally happened only in high summer, after the spring rains were long gone and the terrain was harder and dryer.

He wasn’t sure that Dean really understood yet the conditions he would be living in for the next year, but there was nothing for that but to show him. Words would never fully prepare anyone for living on the edge of the frontier if they had been born and raised in any of the eastern cities. It had certainly been a shock for himself, when he and Gabriel first arrived with Nora and Charlie. The first few weeks had been difficult, and then just when they had thought they were getting accustomed to it, winter had arrived.

Castiel reviewed the list, then headed off to start with his purchases. He’d put off doing the shopping until after Dean arrived, mostly because he didn’t see a need to be storing the items himself. Security wouldn’t have been a problem; a simple spell protected his belongings from would-be thieves.

He returned to the room some three hours later, wondering if that was enough time for Dean’s nap. Was he really napping? Why did a healthy adult Familiar require a nap? Though he _ had _ claimed that he hadn’t slept enough on the trip. That was plausible. A Familiar generally transformed between shapes somewhat frequently. If he was in a situation where he couldn’t freely shift for an extended period of time, it placed an additional strain on the body, no matter which form the person was constrained to. He knew that. Growing up, he’d spent no small number of hours learning about the strengths and limitations of Familiars. It was important knowledge for any Witch to have, and according to Nora the reverse knowledge was a part of a Familiar’s education, though less formally.

By their very nature Witches tended to be more academically inclined than Familiars. Castiel’s greatest regret about relocating to the frontier was leaving behind the majority of his book collection. He found the differences in training methodology between the two endlessly fascinating. Perhaps at some point in the future Dean would indulge his curiosity, and talk about his experiences.

Castiel scowled faintly to himself, then rapped on the flimsy door to the room before opening it and stepping inside, setting the sack of goods he’d purchased on the floor inside before looking for Dean. The rest of his purchases would be delivered later.

“Good evening. I trust you rested well.”

Dean sat up from the bed, swung around to set his stockinged feet on the floor. The socks were grimy and stiff, Castiel noticed, but made of finer cotton rather than thick wool. He blinked, then focused his gloriously green eyes on the Witch. “Ugh.” He moved his mouth, rolled his shoulders and blinked again, reached for his canteen and poured a small stream of water in his mouth, swished it around, then swallowed. “Heya, Cas. Slept some, yes. It helped, though I’ll be better after a full night’s worth. You go shopping?”

“Yes, I was tasked with acquiring certain needed supplies, as I mentioned earlier.” He nodded towards the sack, then sat down on the second bed. There was little room between the two; space was at a premium in this sort of establishment.

“Oh yeah, you did say something about that. How soon are we going to hit the road?”

“I had thought early in the morning the day after tomorrow. That will give you the opportunity to review the contents of your trunks and determine what if anything you would like to leave behind or trade for. I would be happy to assist you in evaluating the usefulness of any such items if you have questions. I do understand that not all items must be useful or practical in order to be personally valuable to you, so that must also be taken into consideration. If you require additional time that can be negotiated, but I am somewhat anxious to return as quickly as possible. The settlement is weaker without our presence. Gabriel and Charlie are a powerful pair, but their strengths are different from mine. And, presumably, yours.”

Dean ran his hand through his hair. “So what exactly is it that you’ve been doing out here? Your cousin wasn’t really all that specific.”

“No, he wouldn’t be. He has Witch blood, but it did not manifest for him very powerfully. He chose to pursue a career in law instead. You are aware that the west was corrupted by a powerful arcane event, approximately three hundred years ago?”

“Yeah, that was covered in primary school history lessons.” Dean stretched more fully, working out some of the kinks from napping on a slightly too small bed. “No one knows exactly what caused it, though there are lots of different theories out there. But the short of it is that this corruption spread over vast territories, larger than the whole of eastern civilization and corrupted everything it touched, making the land unsuitable for any but the hardiest life. The natives who didn’t get out of the way either were killed or were corrupted themselves into monsters, same for the animals, and even the plants changed into horrific versions of their original form.”

“Yes. The corruption stopped actively spreading about a hundred years after it struck, but its effects linger. Gradually the healthy lands to the east of the Great River have begun to reclaim the corrupted land, so now it is at least survivable. However, there are still virulent pockets that must be contained and then eliminated in order to truly make the frontier habitable again.”

“So that’s what you -- we -- are doing. What do these pockets look like? And how do you cleanse them?”

“The source of the corruption itself is not visible with human sight, but we -- Witches or Familiars -- are able to See it as a … it is difficult to describe precisely, but I would compare it to a spring rising from a bed of rocks, but instead of providing fresh clear water, it is spewing forth foul corruption. Complicating the matter is that plants and animals -- and people -- are still capable of being corrupted, so we must also either cure or destroy those who have been contaminated.”

“It can be cured?” Dean asked. This was something that wasn’t covered in school.

“Sometimes. Depending on the severity, many factors. It can be a difficult judgment call, at times.”

Dean nodded. “I guess I’ll see it for myself. Day after tomorrow will work just fine. I’ll write a letter to my family while I’m here, let them know I made it this far, at least.” It sounded like he might not be able to get another letter out for quite some time. They would want to know he was safe this far, and he would share his first impressions of Castiel Angelus as well. He knew his family worried that he’d made a poor decision. If he could give them some peace of mind, he would.

As long as they had that much time, Dean could afford to make the effort to give his belongings a thorough wash. He pulled clean clothes out of one of his trunks and got to work.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time the two of them were ready to head out, both trunks were emptied out and repacked into bags more suitable for pack animals. The trunks themselves were sold along with surprisingly little of Dean’s other belongings. Castiel did suggest he traded in some of his fancier eastern clothes for more roughspun, sturdier alternatives. Dean thought that was a smart move, though he retained one finer set of clothes. One never knew when there might be an occasion to look one's best. 

Dean didn’t actually help load up the horses on the morning of their departure. As he suspected and warned Cas about, there was a lot of nervous eye-rolling and hoof stomping on the part of the animals. The mule was less perturbed than the horses, but still hardly comfortable with his presence. He thought it best not to get anywhere near their backs where they would feel vulnerable. He did stick nearby, though, so they got used to his scent.

Not long. Not long, and Dean could shift, really stretch his legs out. He kept looking out towards the west, not concentrating on the actual here and now. “You have everything in hand, Cas?” he asked, glancing towards the Witch. Castiel worked with dexterity and competence, clearly well familiar with the routine.

“One more buckle, and… yes. There we go.” He held out a lead rope. “Can you take Smoky? He’s both more fractious and braver than the others.”

“Smoky?” Dean asked, accepting the rope and tugging the blue roan along out of the livery stable. Act calm, and eventually they would settle, figure out he wouldn’t harm them. “Don’t tell me the chestnut is named ‘Red?”

“I didn’t name the horses, Dean,” Castiel answered while pointedly not meeting Dean’s gaze.

“He is? Hah! Classic. This place, it’s going to be easy to navigate. I can tell already. The saloon literally named, The Saloon. There is a saloon, isn’t there? Please tell me there is.”

“Yes, Dean.” Castiel rolled his eyes. “Your apparent priorities are in line with the other residents.”

“What about the mule?”

Cas hooked the mule’s lead to one of Red’s saddle rings. “Pigeon.”

“Well that doesn’t fit the pattern. Where did that come from?”

“I’m actually not sure. He already had his name when I first made his acquaintance.”

The two of them made sure Red and Pigeon were clipped securely to Castiel’s saddle, but Cas chose to walk along with Dean out of town rather than mounting right away. They walked for about a half hour before Dean ran out of patience with his human form. They were far enough away, now, and plenty of scrub brush around.

“Hey, um. Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“We should do the binding. The light level, temporary one. For now. So we can still talk after I shift.” He tapped his forehead.

“Yes, right. Of course.” Something they should have thought of before heading out, actually. But this was a new situation to navigate for them both. Castiel hitched Smoky to a nearby branch and moved enough away to find a clear bit of ground. He pulled a knife out of his belt and pushed his sleeve up enough to expose his wrist. Dean did the same. 

Cas inhaled deeply and braced himself for what was to come. Besides brief periods of Charlie’s assistance, he had been cut off from the greater grid of power for months, compounding the grief of losing Nora. 

Dean waited patiently, only making a shallow cut along his left arm when Cas had finally done the same. Cas wrapped the fingers of his right hand around Dean's left wrist, holding it steady as he brought his own left wrist forward, pressing them together as he spoke the words of the first level binding incantation.

Dean felt Castiel’s power tingle through his bloodstream, knowing that the same was happening to Cas. He had short partnerships before. All Familiars did, as part of their training. This, though, as temporary as it was, was deeper than he had ever gone before. It felt strange, but still comfortable. Not letting go Castiel’s arm, Dean opened his mind and sent a tendril of thought.

_ *Cas?* _

_ *Yes, Dean. I can hear you. It appears to have worked.* _

_ *I hope so, else you aren’t much of a Witch.* _

The problem, or benefit depending on the situation, with speaking telepathically, was emotion came across as well. Cas didn’t have to say a thing for the affront to come across loud and clear. That only made Dean grin.

“All right, that’s done. So.” He dropped Castiel’s arm as the cuts swiftly healed and stood up to start shedding his clothes. “Time to shift. Man, am I looking forward to that.”

-oOo-

Castiel could admit to himself that he was very curious as to what Dean’s other form was. He also knew that nudity was something that Familiars were far more comfortable with than others. Castiel, however, was accustomed to a female Familiar. Despite his curiosity, he turned his back away from Dean after the first flash of skin to give him what small bit of privacy he could. He could hear the rustle of clothing, imagined Dean removing the outer layers, stepping out of his trousers, revealing his muscular legs, his bare feet, his chest and arms. He closed his eyes, silently praying for strength as he felt a flush rise from his chest up over his face.

Nora usually Shifted in her room, leaving her clothing there, and then flew out the window to join him. He kept a spare change of clothing for her in case she needed to shift back to human form while they were out, but that rarely happened. He had never been physically attracted to Nora anyhow. She was like a sister to him, or perhaps a close cousin. A very good friend, but not anyone he would ever consider a deep bond with, and he knew she felt the same. They worked well together, but that little extra that could take the relationship beyond the superficial level simply wasn’t there.

And then Castiel felt it -- that little pulse and shimmer along the arcane thread connecting them, a surge of power on the astral plane, deeper and richer somehow than what Nora had exhibited. Castiel shivered at the visceral power rolling through him. When it finished passing through it left a subliminal hum behind.

_ *And done,* _Dean thought to him.

Castiel nodded, then turned, wondering what he would find.

Dean stood there, his long black-tipped tail slowly swishing from side to side, powerful haunches relaxed. He was magnificent, a large tawny-coated cougar with the same grass-green eyes as his human form. Muscles rippled under his short summer coat. “Oh. You are _ beautiful _,” the Witch breathed.

Dean’s left ear twitched. _ *You’re not supposed to call a male beautiful.* _

“That is a ridiculous statement. Beauty is beauty, whether it comes in a male or a female form. Beauty itself has no gender. And handsome does not convey entirely the same meaning.”

_ *Oh my God, you would get along so well with my brother, arguing semantics like that. He’s always got his nose buried in the books. His mate has a hawk form, though, so she keeps him on his toes.* _

Castiel cocked his head to the side. “Your brother has a dual-Familiar bonding? Fascinating.”

Dean stretched out one paw to lightly rest on top of the pile of neatly folded clothes. _ *No, he’s a Witch. We can talk about that on the way, if that’s what you’re interested in. You going to pack my stuff away?* _

“Oh, yes. Of course.” Castiel could have talked mentally as well, but he had been taught that it was rude when he was near enough to use his voice. He didn’t entirely understand why. Perhaps it had something to do with others in the vicinity feeling excluded? But here it was just the two of them, no one else to feel excluded from the conversation.

He moved forward to pack away Dean’s clothing and boots in the pouch designated for that purpose. The pouch was constructed in such a way that Dean could maneuver it around his neck and carry it himself in his animal form if he had to, but that hampered his freedom of movement and there was always the possibility of it getting caught on the underbrush. On top of that it was a dead giveaway that he was a Familiar rather than a natural-born big cat. The charm hanging on a leather thong around his neck was also a giveaway, but that wasn’t quite as discernible from a distance.

_ *Thanks, Cas. Mind if I stretch my legs a bit? We could also test the range of our communication. Practicing the spellworks should wait until we stop for the night.* _

“Go ahead, testing our range is a good idea. And yes, we need to start the partnering exercises to learn each other’s paths and methods, but I agree it should wait until we make camp.”

Dean stretched, one of those long feline stretches that began from the tips of his forepaws and rippled up his legs, through his torso, down his hips and hind legs, and all the way to the tip of his tail, arched up over his back. He yawned as well, displaying his enormous jaw and sharp teeth. Castiel shivered again despite himself.

He truly was magnificent.

Castiel began to understand why Dean would be more comfortable out in the open. Living in a city as populous and crowded as New Avalon must have been uncomfortable for him in such a large Familiar form. As he watched, Dean disappeared into the brush. He felt echoes of Dean’s joy through their link. It was that link alone which allowed him to know Dean was anywhere near at all, for he blended in incredibly well.

_ *Come on, slowpoke. Let’s get moving.* _

“Oh. Yes. Of course.” With that prompt, Castiel mounted back up and continued along the trail. The horses were far more relaxed without Dean right nearby, which allowed Castiel to relax as well. In fact, he had to remind himself to remain vigilant. Just because Dean was out there scouting didn’t mean he could forego paying attention to the surroundings.

“You said your brother is a Witch? Isn’t that unusual?”

_ *You mean to have both Witches and Familiars in the same family? Yes, I suppose it is. Never felt unusual to me, since I’ve been around it my whole life.* _

Dean roamed far enough ahead that Cas had to switch to mental communication. _ *Then you must have parents who are a Witch/Familiar mated pair.* _ To ask about anyone’s past was considered rude, but Dean had spoken of his family immediately, and with affection. There wasn’t any mental retreat from the topic, either, so Cas felt free to continue.

_ *Yes.* _ Dean didn’t add any more beyond that. _ *I’m going to run ahead, see how far we can communicate.* _ He kept up a running commentary about what he was seeing.

They discovered that mental communication tapered off around a mile apart from each other, which was not bad range considering. As they worked more together, strengthened the link between them, that would only grow. And, if they ever chose a more permanent bonding, that range would increase exponentially.

Castiel did not gain visual of Dean again until twilight, as he finished securing the animals for the night at their chosen campsite.

“We are making better time than anticipated,” Castiel said, as he began to make biscuits over the campfire. His back was towards the stream, where he had left Dean’s clothes on a boulder. It was much more difficult than it should have been not to turn and look when he heard the rustle of cloth indicating Dean getting dressed behind him.

Soon the Familiar joined him at the fire, back to his human form. “That felt fantastic. I almost didn’t want to change back.” He rolled his shoulders and stretched his legs out towards the fire.

“You didn’t have to. You _don’t_ have to,” Castiel pointed out.

“Yeah, I do. Can’t help out at the campsite as easy when I don’t have opposable thumbs.” He wiggled his fingers to demonstrate. “Let me take over the cooking. You can go wander around and set wards.”

“Yes, all right,” Castiel agreed. “That is a good idea. And a good practice at working together.” He handed the skillet over to Dean and stood up. Temporary wards were something he could do with his own power; they were simple enough, the power coming mostly from the sigils themselves, but even so. That would not help with learning to work with Dean. So for the first sigil, he prepared exactly the same way he would were he still working with Nora, opening the link to its fullest and drawing power towards himself.

The next instant, Castiel found himself sitting on his ass in the dirt, blinking away the spots in his vision. Dean laughed in the background. That was more power than he expected.

“You’re lucky I wasn’t in cat form,” Dean told him.

“Yes. Yes.” Castiel stood up, again, and brushed the dust from his trousers. Familiars in their animal forms were more powerful conduits. Dean in human form knocked him on his ass, in Familiar form, he would likely have lost consciousness. “You are significantly larger than Nora was.” Which shouldn’t really have an impact on power. In theory. “This is why we are practicing. There’s no reason to mention this to Gabriel and Charlie, right?”

“Sure thing, Cas.” Dean grinned at him again, laughter in his eyes.

Cas scowled at him.

"You realize you're not fooling me." Dean tapped his temple.

Cas merely scowled harder, though he was hard put not to simply laugh.

The next attempt, Castiel moderated how much power he was pulling in from Dean by a great deal. It took three sigils before he felt he had the process correct.

“You expecting an entire army to come down on us?” Dean asked, as he stoked the fire.

“No, that is entirely unlikely. I needed the practice, we both did. Do you feel drained at all?”

Dean considered that. “Maybe hungrier than I should be, considering how much I was snacking out there all day. But drained? Nah. You just skimmed the surface of my reserves there. What about you?”

“Mmm, interesting. No, I was not using my own reserves at all, I was drawing entirely from you.” What a lovely thing, to be able to say so. “This is good news. We’ll be able to get quite a lot done.”

“Something tells me cleansing this corruption is a lot more taxing than setting wards.”

“Without a doubt. Something to worry about for another day, however. After dinner we will attempt a few more exercises and then get some rest. I would like to get going as early as possible tomorrow morning. Shall we set up a bedroll for you?”

“Nah, I’ll shift again for night time. I’ll figure out more permanent options once we get where we’re going and I can see what the space is like.”

“We could still put the bedroll out. It might be more comfortable even in your cat form.”

“Maybe. Actually yeah, it would be, but I don’t know that it’s worth the effort.”

Cas arched a brow at him. “It takes little more effort to set up two bedrolls as one.” He didn’t listen to any further protestations, simply untying both bedrolls from the saddle and setting them up. The oiled canvas went down first, protecting the rest of the bedding from the moisture of the earth. Then he spread the rest of the bedding out.

“Thanks, Cas. Dinner is almost ready, by the way,” Dean said, giving the skillet a shake over the fire. “Nothing fancy, just a little rabbit meat stew with potatoes and carrots. Have to use the fresh stuff we brought with us before it goes off.” The rabbit he’d hunted while shifted, then skinned when he was human again.

“Thank you. It smells very good.” Cas stood up and brushed off the seat of his pants before joining Dean at the fire.

“Does this settlement we’re going to have a name?” Dean asked, piling his own plate full of food. “You aren’t the only one that your cousin failed to fill in details for.”

“Willow River. Coincidentally, the settlement is located on the banks of a river that has many willow trees.”

Dean snorted at that one. “Figures. Hey, that’s slightly better than ‘Outpost Three,’ I will give you that. I would have gone with a portmanteau. Wiver, maybe. Rivows. Rivollow.”

Cas blinked, unsure how seriously to take Dean’s suggestions. “Those all sound ridiculous,” he said. “I suppose I should be grateful that the settlement was already named before Gabriel and I arrived. He would have been quite enchanted by any of those suggestions. My brother… sometimes seems incapable of taking things seriously.”

“Yeah? Mr. Angelus – Balthazar, your cousin – wasn’t forthcoming about that, either.”

Cas made a small sound of understanding. There was a lot of history there. He wasn’t certain how much he was willing to share, quite yet.

“I signed up either way.” Dean said with a shrug as he sat down near to the fire to dig into his meal. For having been raised in the east just as Castiel was, he didn’t appear to have the best of table manners.

Cas wondered what his reasons were for answering their advertisement. He’d honestly been uncertain they would have any takers — and if they did, that the Familiar would be anyone he wanted to work with. He wouldn’t ask, however. That was an unwritten rule amongst everyone who came to the frontier, as he’d learned early on. Whatever anyone’s history, it didn’t matter. The frontier was a place where a fresh start was possible, no matter what one had done — so long as one followed the rules of the west.

“What are your strengths, anyhow? What are we going to be practicing, when dinner is over. You aren’t half bad at the sigils.”

Not half bad? That was a weak compliment, if it was even intended as a compliment. “I thought basic exercises, to become accustomed to working together. Small spells and incantations. Usually I frown on using magic to do the sorts of tasks that are as easily accomplished using hands and other physical means, but in this case there’s a purpose beyond what the magic is actually doing. So untangling Smoky’s mane and tail, working with the campfire, other such workings. Have you much experience partnering with a Witch?”

Dean did seem to know what he was doing, which indicated he had indeed spent some time working as part of a pair, but there were many different ways that magical abilities could be used.

“I have been through all of the traditional Familiar training, Cas. That includes temporary bonding. I worked with my dad on a few cases, then Sammy and I worked together all the time before he pair-bonded with Jess. Don’t worry about me, I can handle whatever you want to throw at me.”

“You’re very confident.”

“Damn straight I am,” Dean agreed. He poked at the fire with a stick. “No point in stretching the truth about it, though. You’ll find the truth soon enough. And your ass has already hit the dirt, so there’s that.” He grinned.

Cas scowled, though he was, perhaps, amused. Perhaps. Very slightly. He brushed some detritus from his thigh.

“I grew up in the Angelus household, so my training was quite formal and exhaustive. I do not necessarily adhere to the more rigid teachings any longer. I take what works, and discard that which I have never found any value in.” It took him a long time to get to that point. He was more rigidly conformist than most throughout his training. Only after he’d become disillusioned had he relaxed about magic as well. “That said, there is value to working through the traditional forms when entering a new partnership. Not least is mutually understanding what to expect.”

They’d already skipped ahead in some respects, while testing the communication limits, but resetting wasn’t a bad idea.

Dean groaned at that one. “More evidence you would get along great with Sammy.”

Even though he had had the bigger portion of food, Dean still finished before Castiel did. He brought his dishes over to the stream to clean them off, and then took the time to wander around and look at all of the sigils Cas had set earlier.

Castiel chose not to feel rushed in finishing his own meal. It was, admittedly, much better than he was capable of throwing together himself and deserved to be enjoyed. It also provided a valid excuse to watch Dean prowl about the perimeter of the camp. He realized he was being influenced by now knowing what Dean’s Familiar form was, yet prowling did seem an apt description. Contained confidence in motion.

“If your brother and father are Witches, then you are aware that Witch magic is far more rules-based than Familiar abilities.”

“Yeah, I know, but some of you take it a long, long way, getting lost in esoteric spell books that have little to no practical application. The joy is in the study of the spells rather than in figuring out how to apply things.”

Cas paused, considering. “That… is a fair statement,” he had to allow.

“You ready to try this out, then?” Dean asked as he moved back towards the fire, and Cas. “Keeping it simple rather than pushing ourselves, right? For now.”

“Yes. Simple, for now.” In time they would, should, be able to work magic while on the move, Castiel throwing out incantations, weaving Dean’s innate magic into patterns and actions without having to think about it. That came with familiarity and practice. For now, deliberation and caution were in order.

He had a feeling that deliberation and caution were not Dean Winchester’s strong suits.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean was exhausted. Three days of exercises, the only respite being while they slept, were enough to leave him feeling rebellious. Cas believed not only in following traditional partner bonding progression exercises, but repeating each set multiple times before moving ahead to the next. There was no such thing as ‘good enough’. He found areas for improvement, shared his thoughts, and insisted they try again until the exercise met his exacting standards.

Dean couldn’t even complain, much. His role was mostly to be there and allow Cas to use him to funnel larger and larger amounts of magical energy to the Witch. The flaws in technique were nearly all Castiel’s own perceived errors.

Sometimes he had to metaphorically bite his tongue to keep from snapping at the other man. There were a few times he couldn’t entirely hold back his growls.

Cas usually called for a break when that happened.

Despite all of the training exercises, Dean made sure to pay attention to his surroundings. The landscape here was vastly different from the east coast—wild and untamed. The animals were leaner, stronger, and more suspicious. He never saw another person, or even much evidence of other people. The trail Cas rode was clearly originally a game trail, though here and there Dean could see evidence of wagon wheels marring the earth. It was strangely exhilarating, being here.

On the morning of the third day, Dean was roaming ahead and to the side, padding silently through the trees. He could hear and smell Cas and the horses on the trail behind, close enough for comfort, distant enough to allow him some privacy. Castiel Angelus wasn’t a bad companion, but for all that they got along, he was still a stranger. Dean needed some time on his own. Cas had told him they should be arriving at Willow River late today, as they’d been making good time. The weather had been cooperative; they’d had nothing but sunshine and pleasant temperatures.

He stretched, reaching ahead with his large paws, then settling back, feeling his muscles lengthen, his joints pop. He flexed his claws, unsheathing them, letting them bite into the soil, releasing the rich loamy scent of the earth.

The wind shifted, bringing with it a new and different scent. Dean lifted his nose, flaring his nostrils. This smell was like nothing he’d ever encountered before. It had a sour tang to it, a sharpness that made him growl involuntarily, his tail twitching.

_ *Cas?* _ he sent a questing thought towards the other man. _ *What is that?* _

_ *What is what?* _ Dean felt Cas’ state shift to one of alert readiness.

_ *Weird smell. It’s wrong. Can’t really describe it.* _

_ *I will come to you. Stay there, we will approach it together.* _Cas’ unquestioning acceptance of Dean’s discomfort felt good. Dean had seen Witches scoff at a Familiar thinking something was wrong. It was good to know that Cas wasn’t one of that type of Witch.

It wasn’t long at all before Cas joined him on foot, stopping by his side, lightly placing a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Where is this smell coming from?”

_ *This way.* _ Dean prowled forward, slinking close to the forest floor, each step soundless. Cas stayed nearby, moving almost as quietly. Dean was impressed despite himself.

The odor grew stronger, and as Dean approached he became aware of the magical energies of the area becoming twisted and snarled. He rounded a large tree, and came to a stop at the source.

Ahead, a swath of death consumed a patch of the forest floor. There was no other word for it. A foul-smelling ooze leaked from multiple wounds in a mound on the forest floor, killing everything around it. The normal healthy green of trees and grasses was eradicated, replaced with dead brownish-purple vegetation. 

While clean magical energy felt crisp and clean like the first bite of winter in the high mountain air, the energies surrounding the ooze felt like rotting vegetation in stagnant swamp water.

Dean wrinkled his nose. _ *What is that?* _

Cas’ jaw set in a hard line. “This is the Corruption that we fight. It disturbs me that it is east of the settlement. I’d thought we had this area cleansed.”

_ *This is Corruption?* _ Dean shuddered. _ *What causes it?* _

“We have as many theories as we have people. No one really knows.”

_ *This is just wrong. Unnatural.* _

Cas simply nodded. He paced around the perimeter of the sick area, occasionally squatting to look at something more carefully, but always staying far enough to avoid being touched by it. Then he looked to Dean. “Do you feel up to your first cleansing?”

Dean stood taller. Anything to get the stink out. _ *Yes. Do it.* _

Cas shrugged out of his coat, folded it neatly and set it down on a rock safely away from the perimeter of the corruption. He rolled up the cuffs of his sleeves and flexed his hands, then reached out to touch Dean through the connection between them. The link flared lightly, then settled into a steady flow. Cas could see it with his second sight, Dean’s green energy mixing clear and bright with his own blue-white aura. 

He took a deep breath and murmured a centering incantation, taking the stream of magical energy from Dean and drawing it into himself before reaching out again and touching the corruption.

Dean’s magic stuttered and pulled back involuntarily when it touched the oily edges of the corruption, its purity and brightness muddled. Dean himself growled and lashed his tail. 

Cas could have forcefully grabbed the magical energies, with the binding contract they’d entered into, but he did not work that way. That was one of the fundamental issues he had with the philosophy of his oldest brothers. They believed that the Witch was the power in the relationship, that a Familiar, any Familiar, was a source of power to be used indiscriminately according to the will and desire of the Witch.

Cas believed in the inherent equality of the partnership between Witch and Familiar, considering it a true partnership. He waited while Dean grew accustomed to the foul taste of the corruption. It didn’t take long before the strand of magic settled, once more feeding a steady stream through to Cas.

Cas nodded towards Dean in thanks, silently impressed with his adaptability. He took another breath, re-centering himself, then began to shape their magic. He worked it along the edges of the corruption, cleansing it. He chose a starting point, then gradually worked in a tightening spiral until he reached the point where it bubbled to the surface, _ reaching _ into the earth to find and tie off the vein feeding the corruption, then searing it with a sudden blinding surge of pure energy.

Dean came forward when Cas released the energy, butting his head against the Witch’s thigh. Cas dropped his hand atop Dean’s head. He allowed his fingers to rub lightly at the base of Dean’s ears. The physical contact was soothing. Even more soothing was the warmth that flowed through their bond.

_ *That was… educational,* _ Dean finally said through their connection. _ *And this was a small patch?* _

“Yes.”

Dean shuddered, his fur rippling from his neck back to the base of his tail. Cas felt the apprehension settle and shift into determination.

_ *All right then. We’d best be moving along. We have a job to do.* _

-oOo-

As they approached Willow River, the pure wilderness started to give way to ever growing signs of habitation. Trails too clumsy to have been left by wildlife. Snags of thread left on branches. The scent of woodfire in the distance.

Even with the frustrations of the exercises, the last few days had been just what he needed. There was so much space to stretch his legs. A little bit of civilization would not be a bad thing, however. Somewhere to make a proper dessert. Dean was in human form, and as neatly dressed as could be managed given the circumstances, so as to make as good an impression as possible.

Cas glanced to the side, biting his lower lip. “Dean. I hope that your expectations for Willow River are not too high,” he finally said. “It is very much a rough outpost. There are barely trails, let alone roads. The population is small, the inhabitants… rough around the edges.”

“There are at least walls and a fire to cook over, right?” In truth Dean wasn’t sure what he expected. Cas had a point that a few trips up into the mountain were not the same thing as the frontier. Even so, he had confidence in his ability to adapt. He wasn’t some high society miss that would wither away in less than ideal conditions.

“Certainly, yes. The settlement is contained within a wooden stockade, and there are buildings. Rough in comparison to New Avalon. Some are more finished than others. Gabriel and I have used some of our magic to aid in the construction efforts, so unless someone refused our aid, the buildings are at least sturdy and secure against the elements. But we have little access to the more refined arts and crafts. We rely on ourselves for everything.”

“Didn’t expect anything else.” His nostrils flared as he caught the scent of meat roasting on a fire. Even in his human form, Dean’s senses were more acute than those of a pure human. He could see, smell, hear things that his companions couldn’t.

The meat made his mouth water.

Just as the stockade came into view, he spotted a small red-brown streak weaving its way through the scrub brush towards them. The aura of Familiar flickered at the edges of his senses, suffused with the feel of a field of wildflowers soaked in sunshine.

“Uh. Cas?” Dean asked. “That happen to be Charlie?” They never did get around to talking about what form Charlie took, but Dean had the sudden suspicion that the answer was ‘fox’.”

Cas stopped Smoky and swung down out of the saddle. The smile that graced his lips was a revelation – warm and happy, relaxed. Even his shoulders lost some of their tension. Dean’s breath hitched in his throat. He was suddenly breathtakingly beautiful.

“Yes.” Cas waited for her, going down on one knee. She bounded into his arms, rubbing against him happily, yipping and nipping at his hair.

Cas laughed. “Thank you, I’m glad to be home.” He fondled her ears, scratching at the spot at their base that Dean knew from his own experience felt really, really good.

A man followed followed at a much more sedate pace. Like Cas he wore a coat and hat, but rather than sober earth-tones, the coat was red, the hat sunshine yellow with a striped green and purple band. He walked, not bothering to saddle up and ride such a short distance. His body language screamed casual indifference, but from the little Cas had said, Dean suspected a sharp intellect in him hiding just below the surface. This had to be Gabriel Angelus, Cas’ brother and the other Witch living in Willow River.

“Cassie! Looks like you made it safely with Tall, Not-So-Dark and Handsome.” He shoved his hands deep in his pockets and gave Dean a thorough once over. “Earlier than expected, too. I would have taken more time.” 

“The coach wasn’t as late as I thought it might be,” Cas said. “Gabriel, Charlie… this is Dean Winchester. Dean, my brother, Gabriel Angelus, and his Familiar, Charlie Bradbury.”

“Call me Gabe,” Gabriel said. “Gabriel is too formal. I’m not big on formal, most of the time. Pleased to meet you. I hope we live up to your expectations. We’re rough on the outside, but there are good people here, doing important work.”

Dean nodded, extending his hand for Gabriel to shake. “Pleasure, Gabe.” The way Gabe was looking him over and smirking made him vaguely uncomfortable, but nothing he couldn’t deal with. Nothing he hadn’t dealt with before, honestly enough.

Charlie jumped out of Cas’s arms, straight at Gabe to grab the satchel slung over his shoulders, then dragged it to the back side of the horses where she changed back to her human form and pulled on the clothes. When she appeared again, it was as a redheaded woman wearing worn dark trousers and a loose work shirt that had once been green.

“It’s nice to meet you, Dean Winchester.” She held out her own hand to shake his. Her smile was bright and sunny.

“You too, Charlie Bradbury.” He shook her hand. “I’m not much for canines, but already feeling myself make an exception for you.”

She laughed. “Why, what’s your shift? I’ve never actually met lawyer-cousin Balthazar, but I’ve heard stories, and I’m well enough acquainted with his deliberately vague correspondence. He likes to surprise people. Or maybe it’s just Gabe here he likes to surprise, as revenge for some childhood slight or another.”

Dean grinned. “Cat. Cougar, mountain lion. Whichever name you prefer.”

“I think I just prefer ‘Dean’.”

Cas moved over to Gabe, giving his brother a brief hug and pat on the shoulders. “Has anything of note happened while I was gone?”

Gabe tucked his hands back into his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “Nothing unusual. Charles and I found a couple more corruption pockets and cleaned them out. I’ll bring you two around to the sites once you’re settled in. I don’t know if we got them before anything was tainted, though. Jody said she’s seen signs of a tainted big animal, but when she brought us back to check it out, everything was cleaned up.” He shrugs a shoulder. “Might be nothing.”

“Might be is not something I prefer to deal in,” Cas answered. “How far out were the signs? We’re going to need to camp out in order to get there?”

“Yeah,” Gabe agrees.

“Who’s Jody?” Dean asked, listening to the conversation but not really following it. He didn’t know the people, didn’t know the area. He did know, however, that Cas felt uneasy about whatever Gabe was saying. All of their school lessons meant that surface level emotions were easy to read across their bonding, as long as neither of them were trying to hide them.

“Jody is one of our scouts,” Charlie said. “Senior scout, actually.”

“How closely do you work with the scouts?” Dean asked. It sounded like it was a fairly close working relationship, but that impression could be entirely wrong. “You make them protective charms?”

“Some, yes,” Gabe answered. “Charms, and we work enchantments into their weapons to make them more effective against the corruption. They mostly look for new patches of corruption, and hunt down any tainted animals. Only magic has any effect on the corruption itself, so whenever there’s some to cleanse, Cassie or I need to deal with it. We’ve been working on creating some sort of potion or something that we can bottle up so that the others can use it, but haven’t had a lot of success yet.” He shrugged.

“When the scouts find anything, they come back, tell us where it is, and we go deal with it,” Charlie said. “We go out too; we have different tools to locate the patches, but there are more of them than there are of us, so this is what’s worked to cover more territory.”

Dean nodded thoughtfully. That made sense. 

“Keep in mind that the social structure at Willow River is… loose, at best,” Cas added. “Most are here because they want a new life, away from what they had before. Their reasons are their own.”

“The unwritten rule is that so long as you don’t cause problems here, what you did before you got here is your own business,” Gabe said. “Don’t ask. If someone wants you to know, they’ll tell you.”

“Works for me,” Dean replied. He didn’t want to be a fancy Campbell Familiar. That was why he was there in the first place.

“How much did Cassie tell you on the trip?” Gabe asked as the group started on the way back towards the stockade.

Castiel made a huffing noise. “It’s Cas. Or Castiel. _ Not _ Cassie. Never Cassie.”

Gabe grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “That’s where you’re wrong. It’s always Cassie. But I was talking to your mail order Familiar here, not you.”

Dean hid his own grin, knowing that Cas wasn’t likely to take it well. He brushed the sides of his trousers with his thumbs. “Not that much about Willow River. We were mostly working on the bond.”

“I wanted to make certain we were prepared if we ran into any trouble,” Cas defended himself.

“Not that likely to run into things Eastward,” Charlie commented with a shrug. “But still. Not impossible, either. So seems like a smart move.”

“Definitely not impossible. We encountered a pocket of corruption along the way, just past Honor Creek.”

Gabe looked sharply at him and frowned. “I don’t like that.”

“Nor do I. It seemed newer,” Cas said. “Not well established. I might have preferred established. That could just mean we’d missed it, not that the land was re-infected. Do we need to start backtracking with patrols?”

“We’ll talk about it later,” Gabe decided. “With everyone.”

Now that they were getting closer, Dean could see the settlement better. He stopped in his tracks, filled with dismay. Cas had warned him, yes, but that warning had somehow not been sufficient. The settlement was surrounded by a stockade of sharpened logs, with a trench dug out around the logs, water from the river filling the trench with murky brown water. The stockade itself looked uneven, the thickness of each log varying randomly. They were bound together with thick rope. A tower rose above the upper border, a small roughly constructed shack supported on a framework of more logs and lashed together with a combination of rope and supple saplings. That must be a watch tower, somewhere they could get up higher and see what was coming.

“It’s a little bit nicer once you get past the gate,” Charlie assured him. “By a small degree of nicer. Not so muddy? Most of the time.”

“Looks… small.”

“It’s bigger than it looks from here,” Gabe answered. “Big enough for a few small gardens inside, and some livestock. We get most of our food from fishing and hunting, but we’ve got a few chickens and pigs, even a couple milk cows, and then there are the stables for the horses, and an enclosure. Charlie’s really good at catching fish.” He directed an affectionate smile towards her. “We do some foraging. That’s less predictable, but we know where the good spots are.”

The stockade was at enough of an angle that the roofline of a few buildings were visible over the top of them. None looked particularly large. Tendrils of smoke curled upwards. There were enough trees nearby that firewood would not be an issue. Most of the land they’d traveled through featured low scrub and grasses, with trees clustered by rivers and streams. Willow River was large enough to support old growth trees. There were stumps intermingled between the live trees. Dean surmised those trees had gone into the construction of the settlement’s stockade and the buildings inside.

There were two gates, Water and Land. They approached from the Water gate, close enough for boats to unload with convenience but far enough back that occasional flooding would not threaten the construction. There were a small number of boats pulled up onto the shore, clearly well-maintained and frequently used.

“Charlie is good at catching fish,” Cas agreed. “We all share when we can. You are more than welcome to hunt, Dean, and any extra would be highly appreciated were you to share. Do not let anyone make you feel guilty for not sharing more, however. It is not our responsibility to provide the majority of the food, as we are too often out cleansing the land.”

“You should expect a bit of a party tonight, to welcome you,” Gabe said. “We don’t get new people very often. Cassie coming back would be reason enough to gather tonight. Having fresh blood too? Definitely expect to see most of the population at the saloon tonight.”

Dean nodded thoughtfully. Made sense. Fresh blood. New stories, and in his case, someone who’d be living there for at least a year. Anyone would be curious.

He was curious himself about everyone who had chosen to move to the edge of the frontier, to such proximity to the corrupted lands. What drove them? Were they seeking opportunity, or escape? Maybe a little of each? Being one of the first to claim freshly cleansed land meant the opportunity to gain large tracts, but the risk was astronomical. If they missed even one spot of corruption, everything could be destroyed in an instant.

He wondered, too, about the people and how they related to each other. A year was a long time, and many of these people had been here longer. How many of them were here with partners? What were the rules about sex? If he found someone to indulge with, would Cas feel it through their bond? He stole a sidelong glance at Cas, feeling the back of his neck heat up. 

Cas glanced back, arching a brow. Dean flushed harder and quickly looked away. 

The gate opened when they approached, and Cas’s brows drew down in a scowl. He growled out “I have been very specific about not opening the gate without verifying identity.”

"Relax, Cassie,” Gabe replied. “We’re clearly us.”

“You more than anyone should know that there are Witches capable of illusions.”

“Gabe and I just left, and we’ve been in view the entire time,” Charlie pointed out. “Relax.” She reached out and stroked his arm affectionately.

“Seems like a valid point,” Dean observed, wondering just how many Witches randomly showed up here anyhow.

Cas glared at him.

“But what do I know?” he added, winking at his Witch. Maybe he was taking liberties, but he had no intention of being anyone but himself.

Cas grunted, but subsided.

“Welcome back, Castiel,” a man greeted them as they entered. “And welcome to Willow River, friend.” He made a half-bow towards Dean. He was tall and burly, with dark skin and a friendly smile. 

Dean might not be particularly fond of proper etiquette and manners, but he did know what they were. He returned the bow. “Thanks.” He knew what they were and only sort of followed them.

“Thank you.” Castiel executed a far more perfect bow in return. “This is Dean Winchester. He is to be given full access into and out of the settlement . I will make sure to reiterate later tonight in front of everyone. Dean, meet Rufus Turner. He’s one of the scouts. Most people take shifts at the tower, too, keeping watch.”

“Pleasure.”

“Mutual, I’m sure.”

Dean looked about. This entrance opened into a garden, the plants just starting to grow this early in the season. The garden was a good size with many neat furrows and mounds. He wasn’t a gardener, but he recognized the thick trailing vines of squash, vertical stands of corn, carrots, peas, beans, potatoes from the small garden his father kept back in New Avalon. There were other plants he didn’t recognize. It was early enough in the season they were still low to the ground.

They headed farther in, following a rough trail of packed earth. Unlike Rockville, the buildings in Willow River were mostly wood rather than baked clay. Made sense, he supposed, when they had easy access to trees growing on the river banks. People were resourceful. Whatever materials were around, those were what they’d use to make their dwellings.

Dean was aware of people watching him. It made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He didn’t like being the center of attention like this, even if he understood, under the circumstances. He was probably the first new face in weeks if not months. Of course they were curious.

He plastered his brightest smile on, waved or nodded at everyone he saw.

Charlie took an extra half step and bumped up against him. “So… you and I are the only two Familiars here. Everyone’s used to Familiars, so you don’t have to worry about that part anyhow. They know the value we offer. I know back east sometimes people look at us sideways. Here you’ll just have to prove yourself as a person, not because of what you can do.”

“Oh yeah? And what does this proving myself entail?”

“Relax. That you’re willing to pull your weight, do your share of the work. We’re a community here, far away from civilization. We have to depend on each other. You don’t have to like everyone. That’s unrealistic.” She leans closer. “And just between you and me, a couple of the folks here are very hard to like.”

Dean smirked at that one. “And some of them are pretty easy to like,” he added, as he reached up to ruffle Charlie’s hair.

She bumped her shoulder against his and beamed up at him. “Awww, you’re too sweet.”

They passed through a central yard ringed by buildings. One had a roughly painted sign hung from a roof overhanging a porch, labeled ‘The Saloon’. Dean chuckled to himself. He hadn’t seriously believed it was just called The Saloon. Holy hell.

Adjacent to The Saloon was a stable. A man and a woman came over. “Howdy,” the man said, extending his hand towards Dean. “I’m Garth, and I’m in charge of the stables here. This here is my wife, Bess. We run the place together, and she does a side business in tailoring, so if you need any repairs to your clothes, she’s your gal.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Dean said, shaking his hand. “I’m Dean Winchester.”

“Knew that. We’ve been expecting you with pleasure.” Garth shook his hand for ten seconds too long before finally releasing it and taking Smoky’s lead from Cas.

“Hello,” Bess said, her voice soft and quiet, her head demurely lowered. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Winchester.” She took control of Red, patting her nose affectionately and murmuring into her ear.

“We’ll get these three settled, and bring your bags over to your place right pronto,” Garth said with a smile. 

“No need for that,” Cas said. “Most of the bags contain goods from the market. I’ll come back to go through them with you.”

“I’ll just grab my main pack, then,” Dean said, patting Smoky on the flank as he made his way back to Pigeon and unstrapped the pack he’d need first. Pigeon still snorted and side-stepped nervously when he approached, but it was half-hearted. He patted him on the side of his neck.

“That sounds like a plan,” Garth replied. “We’ll see you later, then. Looking forward to getting to know you, Mr. Winchester. Been a while since we’ve had new friends.”

Cas and Gabe led them towards a building on the north side of the enclosure, a small two-story house with clapboard siding, the boards alternating pink and white. The door was a cheerful red, and the roof… the roof was purple. Dean’s eyes went wide. It was by far the most colorful building within the stockade.

Cas glanced at him, shrugged one shoulder and pointed his thumb towards Gabe.

Gabe grinned at him. “Hey, what’s the point of having Witch abilities if you can’t have fun with them once in a while? This is home sweet home. Parlor and kitchen are on the main floor, bedrooms upstairs.”

“I wanted yellow but he doesn’t listen to me,” Charlie pouted.

“I do too listen to you,” Gabe argued. “I don’t always do as you suggest, but I at least listen. I’m still considering making the lean-to yellow.”

“We don’t have a lean-to,” Cas observed.

“We didn’t when you left,” Gabe corrected. “Added it while you were gone, on the back of the house. Can’t expect Dean to share with Charlie the way Nora did. People would get uptight about that.”

“Since when do you care if people get uptight? Challenging people’s expectations and sensitivities is your favorite hobby.”

“Doesn’t really matter.” Gabe waved a hand dismissively, sniffing at the same time.

A lean-to? “What do you mean by a lean-to?” Dean asked, alarmed. It sounded like that’s where they expected him to live. Sure, Willow River was a rough settlement, but there were still buildings. Plenty of buildings. All over. 

“Come on. I’ll show you.” Gabe led them the rest of the way to the pink and white house – which definitely stood out amongst all of the others, which were mostly either natural wood or white-washed with a limestone mix. They went inside the house. It was rectangular, with a steep narrow staircase on one side leading up to the second floor. Magical energies hummed pleasant and welcoming beneath his feet, tasting strongly of wildflowers with a fainter notes of more cultivated roses — hints of Cas’ previous Familiar woven through the house.

They headed in the direction of a hole cut out of the back wall, with a length of burlap hanging from nails above the opening.

“Ta-da. The lean-to.” Gabe swept aside the burlap curtain to reveal a small room with a sharply angled roof on the other side. There was a low bed frame taking up most of the space. “Didn’t have time to do much to make it look homey, but it’s all yours. Private and everything. If you want a window we can add that later. Figured it was easier to put a window in than take it out if you didn’t want it.”

The thought of adding a window and the resulting access to the outdoors made Dean feel better about the room. It was a disaster compared to his room in New Avalon, but absolute luxury compared to what his imagination made a lean-to look like.

“Right. Thank you. Burlap, the height of privacy.” Small, but it actually had potential. Maybe a rug. He had a rug, he knew. His mother had claimed it would both serve as additional cushioning for the contents of the trunk during the trip and be useful once he arrived. He wondered if acquiring an actual mattress was an option. “At least it isn’t pink.”

“We can fix that,” Gabe said brightly, raising his hands and wiggling his fingers. Charlie reached up and pushed them down again, ignoring Gabe’s pout.

“We can make a door, as well,” Cas said. “Gabe isn’t much of a carpenter. I’m surprised you managed to put together a room that appears solidly constructed.”

“I am a man of many talents.”

“Included amongst which are the ability to sweet-talk Bobby Singer into doing the construction,” Charlie said with a grin.

“Traitor.”

“Don’t you know it.”

“That makes more sense.” Cas stepped forward to look into the room as well. “No mattress?”

“Garth and Bess are almost done with it. He wanted to add some lavender in with the alfalfa.” Charlie stretched. “I’ll go and check with him, get the bags too.”

Cas nodded. “I will help with the bags; they are more than a little heavy. We will also want to separate out the supplies before everyone arrives on the doorstep to claim what they requested.” His voice faded away as he headed out after Charlie.

Dean hadn’t realized he was watching Cas walk away so intently until after the man turned the corner and he turned to notice Gabe looked at him with a knowing smirk.

“What?”

“See something you like, Dean-o?”

Dean flashed Gabe a quick scowl, hoping that his face wasn’t turning red. He didn’t want to think about what Gabe was insinuating. Not so soon after arriving.

Some things were easier to ignore than deal with.

“Not my name,” he said instead of directly responding. “Pink? This place looks like one of those peppermint sticks you can get at the general store.”

“I know, isn’t it great?”

“Great. Yes. Exactly.” He shifted his pack. “May as well get unpacked and cleaned up.” He nodded to Gabe, and went into the new room, letting the sheet of burlap swing down behind him.

He missed the satisfying thunk of a door closing with purpose.


	5. Chapter 5

“So,” Charlie said when she and Cas were well clear of the house, tapping him lightly on the upper arm. “Tell me everything about Dean Winchester. You’ve practiced together? What was it like? He’s awfully handsome.”

“Charlie,” Cas warned. “Whatever physical attributes Dean might have are no consequence to his suitability as a Familiar.”

“Doesn’t hurt, though, right?”

“Since it’s of no consequence, that is correct. It doesn’t hurt.” Cas had spent a lot of energy choosing not to notice just how attractive Dean Winchester was. The best approach was to focus on the other part of her question. “Yes, we’ve practiced. It only makes sense to do so. It feels like we’ve lost some ground against the corruption since we lost Nora. I didn’t want to delay. Besides, there’s little enough to do when traveling. It was a good opportunity to learn how to work together without the distractions of everyday life on the frontier.”

“Makes sense. Did it feel like you can work together well?” Charlie had been Gabe’s partner for going on three years now. They’d gotten together before making the decision to come to the frontier, forming the permanent bond after a mere six months. They worked very well together, complementing each other, their thought processes surprisingly similar.

Cas would have never believed it if he hadn’t seen it himself.

Cas considered that for a moment, how best to answer her. “Yes. It will take some getting used to. May I tell you something, if you promise not to share with Gabe?”

Charlie’s eyes sparkled. Anything that Cas didn’t want Gabe to know was well worth knowing. Her sense of fairness made her answer honestly, however. “I will try to keep it from him. Things do slip through when we’re linked, though. You know that.”

Cas sighed. Yes, he did know that. It was a worry, and made him determined to only link with Dean when they were focused on a serious situation to mitigate chances of other thoughts filtering through. He sighed again as he decided to share with Charlie regardless. “When I set wards at our first campsite on the way back here, I channeled his power the same as I had grown used to with Nora. The surge of power knocked me flat on my ass.”

Charlie’s tinkling laughter always brought a smile to Cas’ face, and was the reason he didn’t really mind sharing his embarrassment with her.

Then she grew more serious, reaching out to touch his arm. “That’s a good thing, right? I loved Nora, you know I did. She was kind and dedicated to our work, disciplined and smart. But… and I don’t mean this in any sort of a disparaging way… she wasn’t the best match for you. She was holding you back. You’re even more powerful as a Witch than Gabe is, and he’s one of the strongest I’ve ever met. Who knows what you’ll be capable of with a stronger Familiar to back you up?”

“That thought had crossed my mind. I try to remind myself it’s premature to get too excited about it. But early indications are… favorable.”

“And on top of that, he’s darned cute. Handsome.”

“Charlie.”

They reached the stable, where Garth was unloading the animals. He’d already finished with Smoky and Red, piling their packs to one side of the stall and the saddles on the other. He was finishing up with Pigeon.

“Hey there Castiel, Charlie,” he said with a bright smile. “Lots of stuff here.”

“Yes. Dean brought a fair amount of goods from New Avalon. He says his family wanted to make sure he had the sorts of useful things that might be difficult to acquire out here on the frontier.”

“Smart. Sometimes I miss the pretty things something fierce. But at least I have my Bess. She’s pretty enough to make up for most anythin’ else.” Garth smiled, his gaze briefly going distant and besotted as he thought about his wife.

Cas nodded solemnly. “We will want to make sure to keep Dean’s personal belongings separate from the community supplies,” Cas murmured almost more to himself than to Garth. “It wouldn’t do to distribute his items about the settlement.” He dove into the bags to start separating by final destination. “We repacked the bags for optimal weight distribution for the horses rather than out of concern for what went where.”

“Looks like everything is light enough the good folks can come claim what’s theirs without me loading up the cart and bringing them around,” Garth commented. “I’ll bring the mattress over, after dinner. That work for you? I imagine you’re going to want to do your…” he waved his hands in the air in a strange parody of magic casting, “rodent repellent on it? I added some extra herbs for that, but I know how you like to be thorough.”

“Yes, I do. Though Dean’s shifter form is a cat, so I have little doubt he’d be well able to deal with any rodentia that might be foolish enough to try and nest in his bedding.” The cantrip was useful for more than just rodents, though. It also deterred various insects, such as fleas and even less pleasant bedfellows.

“Awww, he’s a kitty? How sweet!”

Charlie lifted her brows. “Sweet?”

“I’m not certain I would use the term ‘kitty’,” Cas said. “Though… perhaps.” He wondered how Dean would react to that. The man didn’t seem to take offense easily, and was generally good humored, but even so, some things might not set well with him. Cas didn’t know him well enough yet to predict what would feel like a challenge to his dignity.

Charlie hadn’t seen the cat form, yet. “Kitty” brought to mind something different than what she had assumed, though.

Before the discussion continued down that vein, Donna stepped into the building followed closely after by Jody. “Castiel! Welcome back.” She went in for a hug before he could protest. Donna was a hugger, and always cheerful. Her demeanor meant that people who didn’t know her tended to underestimate her. Cas usually enjoyed watching her take down a corrupted creature with ruthless efficiency, faster and more deadly than most of their other scouts. “What can we help you carry back to the peppermint stick? I’ll come back around again tomorrow with some biscuits. You’ll be happy to know the bees are busy as ever and have plenty of honey to share, so the biscuits are extra delicious.”

Cas hugged her back, a bit awkwardly. He enjoyed getting the hugs, he just wasn’t entirely sure what to do with his hands and arms in return. By the time he had an idea, it was usually over. He envied people like Donna and Charlie, and even Gabe, who were so easily tactile.

Nora hadn’t been particularly physically affectionate. He wondered where Dean fell in that spectrum.

“Thank you, that sounds wonderful.” Donna was kind enough to indulge Cas’ fondness for honey. “These bags belong to Dean. If you would be so kind as to take this one?” He indicated one of the bags with a nod, even as he picked up the other. “The others can also come inside, aside from the items Garth has set aside. Those are the orders people sent with me and can be delivered directly to them. You have the list, Garth?”

“Yeppers, I certainly do. I can take care of that. See you tonight at the Saloon? I know everyone wants to meet Dean. See what the cat drug in. Hah.” He laughed, amused by his own joke.

-oOo-

When the group returned to the house, Dean was sitting in the front room, cupping a mug of coffee between his hands. He’d changed out of his trail clothes into a clean shirt and trousers, and had wiped down his boots. His hair was damp, which made it darker than its usual sandy blond. 

He stood when he saw Cas and Charlie weren’t alone. Dean set the coffee down and strode over to relieve them of the burden of his bags and set them aside for the moment. 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said. “I would like you to meet Jody Mills and Donna Hanscum. I mentioned Jody earlier – she’s Willow River’s Senior Scout, and coordinates the patrols around the territory. Donna is also a scout. In addition to her scout duties, she has a knack for finding beehives and their honey. Do you like honey?”

Dean turned back from the bags and shook both of their hands. Jody was a no-nonsense woman, probably a decade older than himself, dark hair cut in a short, practical style that would be considered scandalous back in New Avalon. Women there were expected to have long, luxurious locks.

Seeing Jody, Dean couldn’t for the life of him understand it. She was certainly attractive as she was.

And Donna? Donna was cheerful, but in a different way from Charlie. She was dressed a bit more neatly, though still practical, with her long blonde hair twisted up and clipped with a hair comb that was decorated with realistic looking morning glories that were a little too perfect to be truly real. 

“Bees, huh? Yes, I like honey. I particularly like some baked goods that are sweetened with honey.”

“Then I think you’ll like my honey apple pie,” Donna said. “I made some this morning. We figured you’d be arriving today, or maybe tomorrow. It’ll keep one day, as long as I can keep the grubby paws of Willow River’s residents out of my kitchen. Meaning no offense, of course. I’m sure your paws aren’t grubby.”

“Not at the moment, no,” Dean agreed with a grin, rubbing his hands together. “I know who my new favorite person is, though. Tell me more about this honey apple pie.” 

“Now now,” Donna answered. “Why don’t I tell you about it on the way to the Saloon? It wouldn’t be fair of us to keep your company all to ourselves when everyone else has been itching to meet ya.” 

“Are you ready to go to the Saloon and meet the greater Willow River community?” Cas asked Dean.

Dean shifted his grin to Cas. “Absolutely. If it’s a saloon, I take it there’s beer?”

“A small selection of alcoholic beverages, yes, including beer and, I believe, whiskey. My own preference is a mead that I find quite tasty. Seasonally, Ellen also makes a hard apple cider which I would recommend.”

“Then let’s go introduce me to the local libations. And those who so kindly provide.” He brushed his hands over his seat, and waited for Cas to lead them out.

Dean was sure he could have found the place on his own. For one thing, the Willow River settlement wasn’t exactly large. There were probably two dozen buildings inside the enclosure, most of which were clearly private residences. The community barn was obvious, and so too was the saloon. It was one of the largest buildings, with a wrap-around porch. Windows were open, so he could hear the sound of people talking and laughing. It was late enough that the sun was nearly set. Light glowed in the windows, warm and welcoming.

“The Saloon. Creative naming there. I approve.”

Cas shot him a look. “In case you hadn’t noticed, there’s not a lot of need for distinguishing one saloon from another.”

“Mm. Point.”

The interior of the saloon was comfortable, if rustic. The tables were solid and square, the bar tucked into a corner had shelves behind it with a small selection of alcoholic beverages on display. Dean followed Cas back to the bar, looking around with curiosity. The bottles weren’t labeled as nicely as they were back in New Avalon. Some weren’t labeled at all, the only distinguishing factors being the color of the liquid inside. There were a couple barrels on stands, with taps inserted. 

Jody, Donna and Charlie followed inside and peeled away to join Gabriel, who was already holding court with his special brand of exaggerated gossip.

The woman behind the bar looked up as Cas and Dean approached, her eyes narrowing slightly as she swept her gaze up and down Dean’s body. The way she looked at him made him feel like he was five years old again. “Evenin’, Cas,” she said. “And you are, of course, Dean. Welcome to Willow River. First drink’s on the house.” She smiled, then, a slightly amused quirk of her lips. “But only the first one.”

Dean moved up to the bar, leaning against it. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Dean, this is Ellen Harvelle,” Cas introduced her. “As you’ve no doubt surmised, she operates the saloon. She’s also our community healer.”

Dean cocked his head to the side. “You have magic?” he asked her.

She huffed a laugh. “No. By ‘healer’ he means for everything that doesn’t require magical Healing. For that, Cas is our best Healer. I take care of everything else. We try to do what we can without calling on the Witches. Their energy is best put to other uses when mundane works will do.”

“Huh. Didn’t Gabriel use his magic to paint his house?”

Her smile grew wider as she pulled out a thick mug from behind the bar and set it on the bartop. “Well. Gabriel is a special case, as you’ve likely already gathered.”

Cas sighed. “My brother is a talented Witch, but his priorities are often skewed.”

“Now what’ll you have to drink?” Ellen asked.

“Cas has been talking up the mead. And the hard cider. I’m a whiskey man myself, but I’m game to try anything.”

“Mead’s a house specialty. Good choice.” She poured golden amber liquid into the mug, then handed it to him. “Used to have more glassware. But it breaks easily, and not so easy to replace. The clay mugs are more practical.”

“Hey, as long as it holds the drink it does the job.” Dean accepted the mug and raised it towards her. “Cheers.” He took a sip, letting the liquid swirl around his mouth before raising a brow. “This is really good,” he said, more surprised than he expected. The flavor was slightly sweet, slightly nutty, and stronger than he’d thought it would be. There was the slightest hint of apple, too, he thought when he inhaled, cheating and bringing his cat senses into focus.

Ellen smiled. “Thank you.”

“I won’t say I told you so,” Cas said.

“Kind of think that counts as saying you told me so.”

“No. I said I wouldn’t.” He nodded thanks to Ellen as she gave him a mug of the mead as well.

“That how you break the rules, Cas?” Dean asked as he followed the man over to the long table where Gabe was holding court. “Find enough ways to bend the definition that you get what you want without actually deviating from the letter of the law?” 

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to, Dean,” Cas actually managed to sound innocent. “You’ve met nearly everyone here, already.” He introduced those he hadn’t. One of those was Bobby, an older gentleman with thinning hair and a salt-and-pepper beard. His clothes were well worn, lightly stained around the edges.

“The same Bobby that built out my bedroom?” Dean asked as he offered a hand to shake before sitting down across from the older man. 

“That would be the one,” Bobby agreed with a personable nod. “Lot of work to do, yet, but it will keep the elements off of ya.” 

“I appreciate it.” 

“I have those dime novels for you, Bobby.” Cas told him. “I did not want to leave them in with the other supplies where they might get ripped or damaged in other ways. I couldn’t find any of the Doc Everston series but did find a tidy supply of Dangerous Desperados…” he finally trailed off when he caught that Bobby was trying to shush him. 

“Oh, man.” Dean leaned forward, setting his mug down on the table. “How far have you gotten?” he asked Bobby, tone in a conspiratorial whisper. “Has Amos started courting Winnifred yet?” 

“Winnifred!” Bobby, too, leaned forward, unable to help himself. “What happened to Pearl?” 

“Oooh.” Dean made an exaggerated pained wince. “Pearl. Yeah. You’ll find out, and when you do we’ll share a whiskey in her honor.”

Bobby grunted. 

“What’s going on at that end of the table?” Gabe called out. “Scoot on over to the middle here, Dean-o, and tell us all about the goings on in New Avalon.” 

“Still not my name,” Dean complained, but nodded to Bobby and moved over anyhow. If gossip was what they wanted, he could oblige. 

Over the course of the evening, all of the residents of Willow River drifted into the saloon and introduced themselves to Dean. Compared to New Avalon there were hardly any people here. He counted thirty-two, thirty-three including himself. According to Charlie, most of them were scouts, going out in teams of two or three to hunt for pockets of corruption or animals that had been twisted by exposure. There were a few who tended to stay closer to the settlement, such as Garth’s wife Bess, and Ellen. 

When he got up to make a quick trip to the outhouse, he saw a chalkboard near the door. There were some names and dates on it, along with a section with some sort of code he couldn’t decipher. “Hey, Cas. What’s this?”

Cas turned to look at whatever Dean was indicating.

“Ah. That is our status board. We keep tabs on who is out on patrol, the direction they intended to go, and when they left. There’s also a rotation for the next up.” 

Apparently Jesse and Cesar were out, as well as Max and Alicia. “Huh. You’ll have to explain the system to me when I get back. Or maybe sometime when I haven’t been drinking.” He flashed a grin at them, then gave a jaunty wave and headed outside.

Enough of the residents bought him a drink that Dean barely remembered stumbling back to the Angelus house at the end of the evening, half supported by Charlie, and getting tucked into bed that Garth had found some time to deliver at some point . The bed rustled, the mattress stuffed as it was with sweet hay and lavender rather than the wool he had back home. The mattress was supported by a webbing of rope, and sagged when he toppled over onto it.

He didn’t really care. It was a bed. Right now, that was enough.

-oOo-

Cas woke up with the sun the following morning and promptly headed down to the kitchen. He rarely lingered abed. Morning was his favorite time of the day, filled with possibilities. Today, he thought, Dean would likely be regretting the night before. Socializing with the people of Willow River was enjoyable, yes, but being a newcomer and the recipient of many drinks purchased for him? That was undoubtedly less enjoyable the morning after than it had been at the time.

He stoked the fire, adding a couple more logs before grinding somecoffee beans with his mortar and pestle and starting the coffee to boil. Cas hummed tunelessly under his breath as he considered what to make for breakfast. Because he liked to rise early, he was usually responsible for making the first meal of the day. He took a yellow-glazed mixing bowl down from the shelf over the workbench and cracked some eggs into it, mixing in a variety of vegetables and some of the mushrooms Garth had foraged last week. Some ham would be a tasty addition as well. Cas took a chunk of meat out of the keeping box. Gabe had just refreshed the preservation sigils on the box last month. They should be good for another six months at least.

Cas could feel the pleasant tingle of domestic magic as he reached inside the box.

Dean staggered out from behind the new burlap curtain as Cas was putting the cast iron skillet over the fire. He looked the worse for wear, his hair sticking up in random directions, his cheeks flushed, his sleep shirt bunched up over his shoulder and rucked up to reveal a sliver of his stomach. 

Cas swallowed and looked away. “Good morning, Dean.” He used a spatula to shift the eggs around, making sure they cooked all the way through. “I hope you slept well.”

Dean came further into the room, blinking owlishly. “Not bad,” he said, voice rough with disuse. “Better than sleeping on the ground like we did on the way in, at least in human form. Do I smell coffee?”

“Yes. It’s expensive, but I consider it a necessity rather than a luxury. I bought some more while I was awaiting your arrival. Mine wasn’t the only order.” He smiled faintly. “It seems that many here are quite taken with it.” Cas took down a pair of mugs, poured some coffee into each of them. “Do you take cream or sugar with yours?”

“You have cream?” Dean said, his green eyes lighting up.

“We do, yes. I don’t know if you saw them yesterday, but we have a small number of milk cows here. Three, to be precise, and a single bull to service them as needed. Getting them here was quite an adventure, to be sure, but everyone agrees they were worth the effort.” He took the small pitcher of cream out of the keeping box and set it down near Dean.

“Thanks.” Dean poured a dollop of the heavy cream into his coffee and stirred it in before taking a sip. “So good,” he moaned. “So, so good.”

Cas cleared his throat. “I’m glad you approve. Breakfast will be ready shortly, if you’d like to take time to freshen up. Gabe showed you where everything was last night, didn’t he?”

“Outhouse out back, yeah.” 

“And wash basin just over there.”

“Got it.” Dean headed outside to take care of his business, and by the time he returned the egg dish was done. 

Cas plated for the two of them, and called upstairs. “Breakfast is ready! If you want it warm, come down.”

“Argh,” Gabe called back.

“Be right there!” Charlie called as well, sounding far more cheerful. She bounded down the stairs, coming over to wrap her arms around Cas in a hug. “You’re the best.”

“You say that every time.”

“Still true.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek before turning to Dean. “Good morning!” She leaned over to hug him too, taking a deep breath when her nose was against his skin. “You smell cleaner than you did yesterday.”

“Yesterday I’d been on the road for three days,” he pointed out. “Good morning, Charlie.” He smiled at her. The hug felt good, so good. Ordinarily he wasn’t touchy with people he barely knew, but somehow Charlie was different. Maybe it was the kinship of being the only two shifters here, or maybe it was just something inherently Charlie. 

Cas silently handed her a mug with coffee and a plate with eggs. She sipped at the coffee and practically purred with contentment. “So. Good.”

Dean smiled. Yep. They were definitely kindred.

“So what’s on the agenda for today?” she asked.

Cas plated up breakfast for whenever Gabe made it down, and brought a plate of his own to the table. "Are there any chores left undone while I was away?" he asked Charlie in return.

She thought about that for a moment. “There is a bit of a backlog on charms. No one really trusts the ‘extra features’ Gabe adds to his.” 

“I resent that,” Gabe complained as he finally made it down the stairs and blearily walked to pick up his plate of food. He slumped down at the table and nodded his thanks when Charlie nudged a mug of coffee towards him. “Everyone loves my additions to the usual. Who doesn’t like getting a little something extra for free?”

“Well.” Charlie’s nose scrunched up as she thought about it. “Max doesn’t seem to mind that his gun puffs out purple smoke every time he shoots it.” 

“Of course he doesn’t mind!” Gabe pointed at her with his spoon. “Also, Donna’s hair clip sprouts a new fresh flower every time she uses it.” 

“Actual fresh flowers?” Dean asked. 

“Illusions,” Cas answered. “Gabriel is adept at illusions.” He focused his attention on his brother. “What about Roy?” 

“Hey, variety is the spice of life.”

“The bluebirds singing were cute,” Charlie mused. “Though I heard that the time a skunk sat back and blinked bashfully at him nearly gave him apoplexy.”

Dean chuckled. “Well, I think I’m good, anyhow. My charm was prepared by my family back home.”

“We may still want to take a look at it,” Gabe said, more seriously. “Make sure it’s up to snuff.”

“I’d recommend leaving that for Cas,” Charlie helpfully suggested.

That earned a snort from Dean. “Sounds like. After breakfast we can start with my charm, Cas. Maybe you’ll even learn a thing or two.” 

“Maybe so,” Cas mildly agreed. “I never turn down a chance to learn how other Witches work.” 

Conversation died down as the four of them drifted off to their own thoughts as they finished breakfast.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean followed Bobby into Peppermint House, carrying lengths of wood that he’d bee assured could make a door. Bobby brought them here for that purpose, so they must be able to. He wasn’t yet sure what kind of magic was going to transform them from uneven planks into a functional door. 

“Drop them anywhere,” Bobby said as he stopped in front of the burlap curtain in front of Dean’s room and set his toolbox down. “Floor is rough enough no one is going to notice an extra ding or two.” 

“I’m grateful there is a floor at all,” Dean answered. Despite the invitation to drop the wood, he set it down carefully. “Did you plane all of these floorboards, too?” 

“Had help. Anyone wants work done, they need to pitch in or barter. Don’t feel like pitching in, well then you can have a dirt-pack floor for all I care.” He pulled a plumb bob out of his pocket and set to squaring the doorway. 

Dean rocked back on his heels and watched. He figured he was there mostly to hand items over. If Bobby needed help, he would tell him. “Surprised Gabe didn’t end up with a nail through the forehead.” 

“That’s why Castiel was the one helping, mostly. Gabe ain’t so bad, though. We wouldn’t be nearly as settled as we are without him. Don’t tell him I said that. Hand me that saw?” 

The other residents of the house were currently out. Dean was used to taking time on his own, so living in close quarters with three other people was an adjustment. This was nice, to have the afternoon here with Bobby the only other one around. 

Dean handed the saw over. “Charlie says you were one of the first people to settle here,” he commented. He figured that was a safe question to ask. It didn’t touch on why he was here. Just that he’d been here for a while. “Were you involved in building the stockade, then?”

“Most of the buildings, too. It was mostly a collection of sod houses when I got here. They worked well enough for what they were, but there’s more trees around here than flat grassland. Made more sense to start going wood.”

“If you’ve got the skills to do it,” Dean agreed. “This place... Willow River in general... it’s got more of a community feel to it than I was expecting. Not sure what I was expecting, honestly, but wasn’t quite this.” He suddenly grinned. “So what do you think of Gabe’s paint choice for the exterior? I think he’s disappointed he hasn’t started a fad.”

Bobby snorted. “He might have, if he hadn’t started off something so ridiculous. Folks might go for a nice cheerful yellow, or a soft blue. Pink stripes is entirely Gabe. We don’t have a choice but to be a community, what with how much we rely on one another to survive.” 

He was quick and sure with the measurements he made, moving without hesitation to cutting the wood into appropriate lengths. 

Dean was acutely aware that this set of skills was one he’d never learned. There was something fascinating about it. “Could you teach me to do this?” he asked abruptly. “Carpentry? Did you make the bookshelf inside, too? The one Cas keeps his personal collection on, the ones that aren’t magic?” Dean hadn’t seen where Cas kept the magic books, though he’d seen him with them now and then. He suspected he kept them in his room upstairs.

Dean actually hadn’t been upstairs yet, which... he didn’t think he was forbidden, but he hadn’t been invited, either, and he knew better than to invade the privacy of Witches without an explicit invitation.

“Yeah, I made the bookshelf.”

“I like it. It’s simple, but beautiful.”

“Probably be easier starting out with a bookshelf rather than a door.” He started to explain what it was he was doing, and why. The angles, the shims to square up the frame, why placing this section first was important. 

Dean was good with his hands, and it didn’t take him all that long to pick up on the basics. It didn’t take them any time at all to finish up, and there it was. A nice, new, solid door in place of the burlap curtain. 

Dean smiled. “Thank you. This is awesome.”

“Should be sealed and painted to protect it,” Bobby gruffly informed him as he packed up his tools, wiping them down before setting them into the box. “But best to let it set for a week or two first, let the wood dry out more.”

“Okay. Let me buy you a drink at the saloon?”

“Ain’t going to say no to that. We show up this time of day, though, Ellen is going to be putting us to work.” Bobby latched the tool box closed and stood up. 

“I’m not opposed to being put to work,” Dean replied as he moved to hold the door open for Bobby. “Do you have a workshop where you do the smaller projects? We could talk about the latest adventures of Amos.”

Bobby’s mouth twitched in the hint of a smile, though his brows drew down as he fought it. “How far have you read? We don’t get everything out here timely. How many more are out there, back on the coast?” He had a wistful quality to his tone. Dean understood that.

Would it be worth it to ask Sam to send more of the stories with his next letter? Packages were a great deal more expensive and less reliable than letters to send. There were probably things more important than adventure books to send, but damn. Bobby would appreciate them so much.

Thinking of Sam made his heart ache. He missed his little brother. From the day he’d been born they were nearly inseparable, especially once it became clear that Sam was a Witch rather than a Familiar. He’d never admitted it anyone, but there were times he was disappointed he and Sam hadn’t chosen a permanent bond. They’d have been good together, but Sam? Sam was a romantic. He’d wanted the chance at a mated bond pairing, rather than a fraternal bond. 

Damned if he hadn’t found one, too, with Jessica Moore.

Thinking back to the shipping dilemma, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to send some out after all. The dime novels were small, hardly that much thicker than a long letter, especially as the paper wasn’t as nice. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever counted, properly.” Dean tipped his head back as he thought about it. “I believe the last one I read personally was number 287.” 

Bobby made a sound of distress. Dean looked at him sympathetically.

The two of them headed over to the saloon, stopping at Bobby’s house first to drop off the tools.

As soon as they stepped into the saloon, Ellen came around from the back. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun, and she looked hot, her face red and beads of perspiration dotting her hairline. “Morning, gentlemen. Get the door installed?”

Dean blinked. He still wasn’t entirely accustomed to everyone always knowing everything about what was going on. “Yes, ma’am,” he answered. “It’s a very nice door, too. I should be all set for now.”

“No doubt it is a very nice door. Good.” She picked up a spare cloth and wiped her hands clean. “I’ve just finished mashing the grain for the next batch of whiskey. Why don’t you go on back and gather the draff to add to the cattle feed.” 

Bobby slanted Dean a look. See? Put right to work. 

“Yes ma’am.” Dean slid his hands into his pockets. “You’re going to have to tell me what draff is, first.” 

“City boy, aren’t you,” she said, affectionate amusement in her tone. “It’s the waste from the process. Has some nutrients still in there, so we don’t just discard it. Bobby knows where the buckets are.”

-oOo- 

By the time Dean returned back to Peppermint House, his muscles were pleasantly sore from a day of labor. After mixing the draff in with the feed for the cattle, he’d ended up assisting Bobby with fixing one of Rufus Turner’s chairs, then spent some time weeding in the garden. Weeding was, apparently, a never-ending task.

Cas was in the house. He looked up from his book. “Good evening, Dean. Have you had a good day?”

“Sure did.” Dean walked over to start making himself some tea. He wasn’t usually one for tea, but it had started to grow on him. The tea set was all delicate bone china that didn’t really seem to fit any of the residents of the house, white decorated with painted pink roses and delicate green leaves. The teapot sat on a crocheted white doily, remarkably clean given the general dustiness that seemed to surround Willow River. Clearly both the tea set and the doily were well-cared-for. 

He glanced over his shoulder at Cas as he ladled fresh water from the small barrel. “I’ve been let in on a few of the secrets of both carpentry and whiskey making. Yourself?” 

“I was helping Jody with some of the wards for the outpost, refreshing them. Strengthening them.” They wouldn’t completely ward off corruption, but they provided some protections against weaker exposure, and would gain the scouts more time to get additional help if it was a stronger attack. He watched Dean move with ease around the kitchen. “Did you feel me drawing from your magic at all?”

Dean cocked his head to the side as he considered. “Wasn’t paying too much attention, honestly. Yes, I suppose so? It’s just always there now. Don’t always notice.” He set water to boiling over the stove, and wiped down the teacup with a clean towel. “This is a nice tea service. Any story behind it?”

Cas stilled. He set his finger in place in the book he was reading and mostly closed it. “I believe it originally belonged to Nora’s mother.” 

Dean felt a thrum of sadness through the bond. “Oh.” He slowed his movement, taking extra care with the cup as he set it down. 

“She didn’t have any family that we knew about to return it to,” Cas continued. 

Dean caught his lower lip between his teeth, nibbling at it as he considered whether to pursue this. Then... screw it. If Cas didn’t want to reply, he didn’t have to. “How long were the two of you together?”

“We first met about a year before coming to Willow River. Charlie introduced us, in Sainte Mareille. So that would make it a little over two years, in total, between the time we first met and the time she died.” The sorrow was tinged with regret, now. “She may have been better served had she never met me.”

“Cas.” Dean turned away from the tin the tea was stored in to face the Witch. “Everyone has their own reasons for coming out here. You said that yourself. If she didn’t know what she was getting into, she would have figured it out pretty quickly after arriving. She chose to stay. I… all right. I can’t actually speak for her. I can speak for myself, though. No matter what happens from here I don’t regret having met you.” 

“She didn’t really have anywhere else to go.” He drew small patterns on the cover of his book with the tip of his index finger. “You know her shift form was a crow, right? She loved to fly, loved pretty things. Transporting that tea set out here was a challenge, but she couldn’t bear to part with it. It was her mother’s, and it was beautiful. Gabe and I made sure to protect it with magical cushioning. It was extra work, but worth it. She liked to wear pretty things, as well. In most ways life here in Willow River didn’t suit her. She would have fit in better back in New Avalon society. She liked to do embroidery, too. She did the needlework on the placemats.” They didn’t bring them out often, but Dean had seen them, with their delicate floral patterns. “And the tea towels.”

Cas was an Angelus, so he likely didn’t realize that it wasn’t that easy to just slide right into New Avalon society. Any door would have been open to him. Nora? Maybe not as much. 

Dean glanced down at his hand resting near the tea cup. It looked incongruous there. Large and rough in comparison to what Nora’s must have looked like. Dean liked wearing nice things, he could appreciate pretty things. Surface similarities didn’t mean he was anything like Nora at all. This was the most Dean had ever felt like he was an intruder in this house. His shoulders twitched, uncomfortable in the space he stood in. 

“Were you working towards a permanent bond with her?” 

Cas snorted, then winced at the indelicacy of his reaction. That was hardly respectful of the deceased. “No. We were not suited for a permanent bond. Both of us knew it. We were friends, though, and neither of us had another partner to work with. Working out here on the frontier, we weren’t likely to meet anyone else for the near term, but we both expected, one day, to return to more civilized parts of the world and perhaps we would terminate our contract at that point.”

“Would she have minded me using her tea cups, do you think?” It made him realize there wasn’t a lot of him in the house. Not yet. He had his belongings he’d brought along, but those were tucked away in his own little room.

“Not in the least.” Cas took a moment to get his emotions under control. Dean could feel them being tucked away, pulled back from the connection between the two of them. Most of the time Cas’ presence was just there, constant, not requiring any attention, but the sort of thing Dean was always aware of in the background, like the air he breathed. Sometimes it called attention to itself, when he felt something strongly or unexpectedly.

“Nora would appreciate your using them. She would have approved of you, I believe. And she would have been pleased that you and I are working together as well as we are. She was very generous and caring. That, I believe, was her primary motivation in coming to the frontier with us. She knew she could be of assistance, and that the work was important, and that she would have a place here. Having a place was important to her. Remembering her is important, too. Have you been to the memorial garden, yet?”

“Memorial garden. No, I haven’t.” The water finished heating. Dean poured it over the tea mix he had left in the cup, and brought it over with him to join Cas by the bookshelf. “Have you lost a lot of people?”

“Too many, considering the short amount of time that Willow River has existed. Since Gabe and I have been here the deaths are fewer. Magic can cure the corruption if it hasn’t gone too far, and the charms we provide the scouts have aided in keeping them from getting tainted in the first place. Even so, this is a dangerous life. We’ve lost...” He looked up as he thought. “Nora, of course. Asa Fox, Bill Harvelle, Frank Devereaux, and Jim Baker since I’ve been here. Others before.”

“Harvelle? Ellen?”

Cas nodded. “Her husband. That was shortly after our arrival.”

Dean held his hand out, offered it up to Cas. It took a moment, but Cas caught on and took hold. It settled some of the displacement Dean had felt after feeling Nora’s presence so strongly in the house and he hoped it offered Cas some comfort as well. 

“I would like it if you were to show me, sometime. The garden.” 

Cas nodded. “Perhaps tomorrow. It’s best in full daylight, or even a full moon, but tonight is overcast. We’d be unable to see well, and it’s already nearly dark. We’ve both had a long day.” He lightly squeezed Dean’s hand. Dean’s heart skipped a beat.

“Tomorrow sounds like a plan.” He sat down with his tea and quietly sipped at it.

-oOo-

Early mornings were Cas’ favorite time of day. He liked the peacefulness and the soft light of the rising sun, the colors of the sunrise. On days when he woke up restless, like this morning, he slipped out of the bed and made his way downstairs, careful to avoid the spot on the stairs that always creaked.

He left the house before dawn, sparing a glance towards the small room where Dean slept. He could feel him through their bond. That steady presence was comforting, especially after the jangling feeling of losing Nora. After her death he hadn’t been himself. Small things set him on edge, made him upset. Once Charlie accidentally put salt in his coffee instead of sugar, and it was all he could do not to either snap at her or burst into tears. 

That was when Gabe had suggested writing to Balthazar to place the ad for a new Familiar. “Not to replace Nora,” he’d said. “She can never be replaced. She can, however, be succeeded. You need a Familiar, not just for your magic but for _ you _. It’s just who you are, Cassie. How you are.”

He’d been uncertain, of course he had been. If he wanted to continue his work out here in Willow River, however, he needed a Familiar. Any casting that required energy beyond his own personal store was unreliable at best. At worst, a disaster. Energies pulled from the world around them without filtering through a Familiar had a tendency to act in unpredictable ways. It had hampered Castiel’s magic greatly to be without. He had been able to borrow Charlie, for emergencies, but that was not a sustainable solution.

So. The ad.

Though he trusted Balthazar more than any of his other cousins, there were no guarantees that he’d actually succeed in finding a Familiar willing to move to the frontier at all, let alone one Cas would actually be compatible with. Still, he didn’t absolutely need to like his Familiar in order to enter a temporary contract. 

Cas still felt a sense of wondrous bemusement when he considered that somehow Dean had answered that ad. Dean was amazing. Dean was everything he could have asked for and more, a powerful, well-trained Familiar who knew his own mind and strength. There was potential there, potential for a full permanent bond. Maybe even… He swallowed. There was mutual attraction there. He felt it sometimes, through their link, a little heated thread woven in with the more utilitarian conduit of magical energy. Sometimes that thread pulsed, and he’d caught Dean looking at him more than once.

He’d looked as well. There was no denying that Dean was a pleasure to look at in both his forms. Cas allowed himself to get lost in daydreams of what might be, someday, as he circled around the inner perimeter of the stockade to the Memorial Garden. He’d promised to show it to Dean, and he would, but later. He didn’t want to wake him, not when he was sleeping so peacefully.

Today promised to be a lovely summer day. The sky was clear with only a few clouds, and the early morning mist from the river would soon burn away. He made his way to the low stone wall bordering the garden and stepped inside.

There were too many simple wooden markers for how small their community was, mute testimony to how dangerous this life was. Cas trailed his fingers lightly over some of the markers, paying his respects to friends and companions. 

He settled down onto the ground before the bare earth, crossing his legs and placing his hands flat on the ground. Closing his eyes, he sent a gentle pulse of magic through the soil to nourish and refresh the plants. Unlike the vegetable gardens, the plants here were chosen for their beauty and soothing nature. Ivy grew along the low stone border wall. Flowering trees shaded the markers, and beds of perennials chosen as much for their fragrance as their color nestled at the base of the trees.

He flexed his fingers into the earth, encouraging the ground cover to grow and spread, covering the earth with clean green grasses, flowers poking up near the markers. Pink roses for Nora; she’d loved them, and they always made him think of her. Daisies for Bill Harvelle, different flowers for each marker, chosen specifically for them.

Eventually he noticed another presence in the garden. Opening his eyes, he saw Dean sitting on the low stone wall, his long legs stretched out before him. “Hey, Cas,” he quietly greeted him.

“Dean. How long have you been here?” Cas lifted his hands from the earth, brushing them together to remove the soil. He’d have to take a brush to get the last of it from under his nails.

Dean shrugged one shoulder. “Not that long. Maybe five minutes. I could feel you tapping into my magic. Wondered what was going on.”

“Ah. I apologize if I alarmed you.”

“You didn’t. I can tell the difference between when you’re working quieter healing magics and when you’re fixing something that’s desperately wrong, or defending us. This… this was peaceful, you know? Wanted to see what you were up to.” He quirked a grin. “Besides, we talked about this yesterday. Thought you were going to bring me along.”

Cas laughed softly at that. “I did try not to wake you. You were sleeping quite soundly when I woke.”

Dean looked around. “I like the flowers. Your work?”

Cas nodded once.

Dean stood and walked over to look at the markers, running his fingers over the carvings. “These are beautiful.”

“Bobby made most of the markers. I think it’s a way for him to work through his guilt. He feels responsible, whether or not he actually was, for every loss.”

“So making this place into a peaceful oasis is your way of apologizing?”

That… he had never thought of it quite that way before. “There is probably some truth to that. It also helps me to center myself when I am feeling unsettled.”

“Makes sense. Anything I can do to help?”

Cas almost said no, but then thought better of it. “Would you check the wall, see if any of the stones are loose?”

“I can do that. And while I do, will you tell me about your friends?”

Cas smiled sadly and nodded. “That I can do.”

-oOo-

Life quickly fell into a routine. Dean worked with Cas more intensively in the mornings, then they broke to work on the various tasks that needed to be done to keep Willow River running smoothly. Sometimes Dean hunted game near the settlement, sometimes he worked with Bobby, learning handyman tasks and lending an extra set of hands to whatever the older man was doing. By the time they were done, everyone in the settlement would have a number of bookshelves to their name. If only they had actual books to put on them. Ah well, they worked just as well for storing pots and pans and any assortment of knickknacks. 

As they worked he talked, sharing what he knew of the corruption and the frontier. Dean discovered that Bobby’s knowledge was varied and wide-ranging, encompassing folk tales from far-off lands as well as a treasure trove of dime novels.

That’s when he and Rufus weren’t out scouting, of course. It seemed the average scouting trip lasted between five and seven days, depending on the objective. Jody Mills kept the less experienced scouts closer to hand, but Bobby and Rufus were their most experienced pair and usually took the longer trips. Jody enforced a week recovery between scouting trips.

Some of the scouts chafed at the rules more than others, but the other authorities in Willow River supported Jody’s position. 

Dean could understand their frustration. As much as he and Cas were working on mastering working together, he wanted to be doing something more important, making a contribution. He wanted to go out on a scouting mission, not keep working on school exercises until he thought he’d scream or break something.

He rolled his shoulders after a long day of repairing a section of the stockade where the ropes had somehow rotted enough to threaten coming apart. It was hard work, hot work, but left a sense of accomplishment in its wake. 

He pushed his hat up and wiped his sleeve across his forehead, leaning back against the logs. A pair of scouts walked past — Roy and Walt Ellington, he identified them. He’d been here long enough that he knew most everyone by name, even the scouts who weren’t around much. “Afternoon,” he greeted them.

Roy looked at him, disdain in his gaze. “Still doing mundane things instead of actually accomplishing anything, I see.”

Dean’s gaze narrowed. “Excuse me?” he asked, keeping his tone mild with effort. “Last I checked, things like keeping the settlement safe and fed is important work. What have you been up to?”

“Keeping the settlement safe. By going out and finding corruption and dealing with it. Not by taking so long to learn the basics that we’re hobbling one of the Witches.”

Dean lifted his canteen to his lips and took a long swallow of water. His every instinct bade him to get up in their faces and challenge them, but… but they were part of this community, and letting them pick a fight with him wasn’t going to do him any favors. “You implying that I don’t know how to do my work as a Familiar?”

“Oh, no implying about it.” Walt, this time. “Been sitting on your ass here for the better part of a month, while the _ real _ scouts do all the work. City boy.”

“All the work?” Bobby came strolling up, thumbs hooked in his belt loops. “What work is that, boys? Somehow managing to head out on patrol whenever there’s anything labor-intensive going on back here? Like, say, repairing the enclosure?” He nodded towards Dean and the work he’d been doing. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, old man,” Roy sneered.

“Uh huh. Don’t think Jody and I can keep an eye on a calendar? Now git out of here. I think you’re on trench rotation this week.”

“What? No we’re not! We’ve got —”

“You’ve got trench rotation, is what you’ve got,” Bobby said, his gaze narrowing. 

Dean hid his smirk behind his hand. Trench rotation was the worst duty, in his opinion. Dealing with sanitation was unpleasant, to say the least. At least they had Witches to help manage the stink, but there was still no getting around the need to deal with waste.

“What are you waiting for?” Bobby made a shooing motion. “Git.”

Roy and Walt exchanged glances, then headed off together at a distinctly faster pace than they’d arrived.

“Those two giving you shit?” Bobby asked Dean.

Dean shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Damn straight it doesn’t matter. They’re trouble. Skirting the rules all the time. Not quite so bad that we can kick them out, and they’re unfortunately good at being scouts, but they aren’t pleasant to be around.”

“So trench duty?”

Bobby almost smiled at that. “Really is their turn. But they may find it worse than usual. Gabe doesn’t have much patience for their hijinks any more. Last time they headed out on patrol early rather than pull their turn at the trenches, Gabe had _ words _ for them. The type of words that included juggling one of those balls of sparks he’s so fond of and letting it zap them now and then. Walt ended up with a nice hole with singed edges right in his seat.”

Dean grinned, thinking he would have liked to have seen that.

Bobby grinned back. He stepped forward, running a hand over the rope bindings around the logs. He tested the tension and strength of the knots, tested the sturdiness of the logs. When he finished he nodded in satisfaction. “Good job, kid. What do you say to a nice big beer and a game of cards? We can deal you into a game.”

“Sounds awesome. Who’s playing?” He’d have to wash up first. No one was going to want to be around him the way he smelled right now. Fence repair was hard work. He’d feel it for a few days, that’s for sure, especially in his shoulders. It worked muscles he didn’t usually use.

“Me, you, Rufus… Ellen. Maybe Jody, maybe someone else. Gabe, potentially. He enjoys playing. Cas never does. Depends who shows up.”

“Awesome. What’s your game of choice? And what stakes?”

“Poker, dealer’s choice on variant. Not much point wagering cold hard cash, so we have some chips that Garth carved for us. Sometimes other wagers.”

“Just let me go wash up some, and I’ll meet you there.”

-oOo-

“Oh, hey, Cas.” Dean smiled at the Witch as he walked into the house, already starting to strip off his filthy shirt. 

Cas looked up from his book. “Hello, Dean.” Something flashed in his eyes, and the tips of his ears turned pink before he returned his attention downwards. “Done for the day?”

“Mm, yeah, with the hard stuff. Bobby invited me for poker at the Saloon. I’m just gonna clean up a bit, then head on over. Wanna come?” Bobby said he never did, but it didn’t hurt to ask.

“Thank you, but no.”

“So what do you do for fun, then, if you don’t like to play cards?” Dean was genuinely curious. He’d seen Cas reading, but they were almost always either histories or spell books, never dime novels or anything fanciful. 

“I like to read.”

“I said fun, Cas. Not studying or doing research.” He walked over and tapped the book. “I swear, you remind me more of Sammy every day. Except he’s got Jess, and she makes him have fun.”

Cas blinked. “I … like to go for walks,” he said slowly. “Or runs. I like to swim, when the weather permits. I like observing the plants and animals.”

“Sounds lonely to me. Sure you don’t want to come out and play?”

Cas looked at him for a long moment, his expression strangely wistful. Then he shook his head. “Perhaps another time. Sometimes we have music. Donna has a lovely singing voice, and Max and Alicia play instruments. Max brought a guitar along with himself, and Alicia made herself a drum. They’re quite good. Perhaps it has something to do with being twins. I’ve heard that twins can have a kind of bond similar in many respects to that between a Witch and Familiar. I’ve meant to ask... “

“But you haven’t,” Dean completed the sentence. “Well. Maybe next time there’s a hoe-down at the saloon you can buy them a round between songs and find out.”

“I may do that. Enjoy yourself, Dean.” 

“Thanks.”

-oOo-

Dean picked up his and Bobby’s drinks at the bar, giving Ellen his best charming smile. “Thank you, ma’am.” 

She rolled her eyes and swatted at him with her towel. “Don’t you ‘ma’am’ me, kid. Go warm up your seat, I’ll be there soon’s I get these other drinks poured.” The saloon wasn’t so busy that she had to stand behind the bar all the time. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he sassed, scooting away fast enough to avoid the second swat with the towel.

“Courting trouble there, ain’t ya,” Bobby said as Dean slid his beer over.

“Never. Ellen’s scary.”

“Damn straight,” she called from the bar.

Rufus showed up as they were settling down with their drinks. “Whew. What a day.” He snapped his suspenders before settling down at the table. “Haven’t started yet?”

“Waiting for you,” Bobby answered. He tapped the table, indicating that Dean should start dealing.

“Haven’t seen you around today,” Dean observed. “What have you been up to?”

“Me’n Cole were harvesting some trees a little ways upstream, and floated the logs down to here. Nice straight ones. They’ll work out good for building. Heard tell that we might be wanting another building or two soon.”

Dean took the cards from Bobby and started shuffling them. It felt good, listening to the sound of the cards weaving together, the snap of his thumb as the last one fell away, the way they fit. He hadn’t played poker in a long time, but he didn’t figure he’d forgotten. He’d earned a fair amount of spending money in the gaming halls of New Avalon, once upon a time. “Yeah? Expecting more arrivals?”

“Hope so. We’re getting a little thin. Aside from you we haven’t had anyone new since last fall.”

“That unusual?” He dealt everyone in — Bobby, Rufus, Ellen, himself. 

Bobby grunted. “Usually get a few during the warm weather months. Some leave, some come. We haven’t had any departures for a while, either.”

“Wouldn’t mind a couple departures,” Rufus commented, pointing with his chin in the direction of the waste trenches. “Sometimes I wonder why certain people stay.”

“Why do you stay?” Dean asked. “You don’t have to answer if it’s too personal, but…” He shrugged. He was curious. This was a difficult life, and from what he’d seen, not too many of them were doing this work for altruistic reasons. Even Garth and Bess, who were two of the sweetest and purest people he’d ever met, were doing it in the hopes of starting a farmstead of their own once the corruption was cleaned. Land here was dirt cheap, practically free for the claiming. It was fertile, too, from what he’d heard. Only drawback was the corruption, which, yeah. One hell of a drawback, to his mind.

Rufus shrugged his shoulder. “This is good, honest work. Hard work. But good. And nowhere else to be, really.” He smiled, then, his eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement. “Definitely interesting. You see things here you’d never see anywhere else, you know? The corruption, most of the time, its effects are creepy. Deer with glowing red eyes. The pulsing black vein thing. That’s the worst.”

“Nah,” Bobby disagreed. “The worst is when the pulsing black vein things burst and spray crap all over.”

Rufus considered that. “All right, I’ll give you that one. The crap is hard as hell to get out of your clothes and hair. You can burn the clothes, but the hair?” He reached up and ran his hand over his closely-shaven head. “There’s a reason there’s almost nothing here.” 

Dean made a face. 

“Yeah, you think about that one, you and your purty hair.”

”I’ve got an advantage there. Shit like that doesn’t usually stick when I shift from one form to the other.”

”Cheater.” Rufus chuckled, making it clear he wasn’t serious.


	7. Chapter 7

“You need to get out of here,” Gabriel told Cas with no lead-in at all. Cas was checking over one of the cows who seemed to be feeling off, but he wasn’t finding anything wrong. Dean was a short distance away, helping to muck out the barn. “School exercises are all well and good, but Dean’s not the type to do his best work with artificial challenges. You need to get him out of the encampment and into the wild.”

Cas nodded. He was reluctant, but agreed it was a good idea. He’d been noticing more and more of a tightness through their bond, and Dean’s temper seemed more strained. Sometimes he came back from a hunt more frustrated that he’d been before he left.

“Jody has been telling me that her scouts are spread thin, what with Maggie recovering from that snake bite.” Thankfully she’d only taken a snake bite and nothing more sinister. “The four of us together?”

Gabe considered that. Usually they didn’t do that; keeping their only two Witches together was risky. He nodded. “Yeah, we need to learn to work together before we face something where we _ need _ to work together. Living in the same house helps to get to know the new kid, but not quite the same thing, is it.”

“No. It isn’t. He seems to be settling in well enough, but I agree with your assessment. I believe he’ll be happy to explore and gain more familiarity with the area.”

“Plan for up to a week on the trail?”

“We won’t get far in a week,” Cas answered as he considered it. “This is meant to be training so not going too far is smarter. I believe Charlie is getting restless as well.” 

“Yeah. She is. Promising that Dean was able to scent out that corruption on your way here. We’ll have to see how much better he gets at that now that he knows what to look for, and if he can leverage you to extend the range of his senses at all. One of us should check on the weather, too, make sure we know what to prepare for.” Weather scrying wasn’t completely reliable, especially here on the frontier, but Gabe was good at it. Gabe’s talents were stronger in the more chaotic and unpredictable magics, as well as the fanciful ones. 

Cas thought that Dean would enjoy having a chance to stretch his legs, as it were.

Cas would enjoy it himself. He was more content than some to be at home in Willow River, but it didn’t serve the purpose of his being here. He had a job to do, and restful as studying various texts could be, it was important to make use of the good conditions to make progress on their overarching task.

Gabe’s scrying revealed that a storm was due the next day, which left everyone hunkering down in the Saloon, keeping each other company with cards and tales, even some music when Max and Alicia brought out their instruments. The day after that was clear skies in every direction. The sun was barely peeking up over the horizon as Gabe, Charlie, Dean and Cas headed out of the gates towards the west. 

Charlie wasn’t a big fan of horseback riding in people form. Gabe had a woven basket strapped to the saddle for her to jump up into and ride that way when she didn’t feel like running alongside any longer. She didn’t use that quite yet, though. She chose to range on out ahead of Gabe and Cas. 

They were all used to Nora flying scouting patterns. It was going to take some getting used to, figuring out new routines.

-oOo-

Dean, too, shifted as early as possible. The horses were used to him by now, and didn’t do more than flick an ear as he loped past. 

Dean’s spirits soared as he moved through the grasslands past the river. After yesterday’s storm everything felt fresh and clean. The ground was springy rather than hard, the scent of grass pleasant. Here and there he caught a flicker of movement from various prey. Being bonded with Cas meant that those flickers weren’t as distracting as when he was solo. That was different. On the whole, he found that he retained far more of his human intellect now, while losing none of the abilities of his shifted form. If anything those abilities were sharper. He could more easily sift through the various scents, his vision could focus farther and more sharply, he could hear better, and both his speed and endurance were enhanced.

Charlie bounded up to him and made to pounce on his back. Her discipline would improve once they were farther from Willow River, but for now any risks were small. Dean flattened at the last moment so that she sailed right over his back. It was but a moment to pin her to the ground, his massive paw covering nearly her entire rib cage. He rumbled at her in mock warning. 

She yipped, her eyes shining in amusement and pleasure. She batted at him with a delicate paw, her full, luxurious tail flipping up to curl over his neck. 

He moved his paw, and she quickly rolled over and regained her feet. He wondered what her particular abilities were. Familiars weren’t limited just to what the natural abilities of their form were. Influenced, yes. Cougars were excellent stealth hunters, could remain still for hours, lying in wait for prey to appear. Their night vision was excellent. Colors were more muted when he was in his shift, but he could still tell them apart. Foxes… he didn’t know any fox Familiars, so he didn’t know what they could do, beyond the basics she’d taught him. 

Dean watched Charlie bound off, then settled into a more serious mindset._ *How close do you need me to stay? _ * he asked Cas. As annoying as all of the strict training Cas had been insisting on was, it did have the benefit of solidifying their bond as much as possible at its current level. _ *This is a good chance to test the limits of our range, again.* _

It took a moment before Cas answered._ *You can still track me from farther than our communication limit, yes? Don’t go so far that you don’t know where I am. I don’t need you to stay right on top of me, at least not during this first day. We’re unlikely to encounter much. Corrupted fauna should be cleared out. Should be.* _

There wasn’t supposed to be any corruption east of Willow River, either, so Dean understood he shouldn’t rely on that. _ *Got it.* _

The landscape here was quite different from what he’d grown up with, in the region around New Avalon. Everything there was far more civilized. Even the hills were gently rounded and genteel.

The entire first day, Dean didn’t get a single whiff of corruption. That was good news, at least. 

Cas and Gabe had made camp by the time Dean returned. He dropped a Pronghorn at Gabe’s feet, then nibbled at his toes to clean them.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Gabe asked, leaning slightly away from the dead animal and making a face. “Moving out to the frontier doesn’t mean I in any way agreed to learn how to dress an animal. Go take that… thing away.” 

Dean hissed and snarled, but then collected his pack from Cas in his teeth before disappearing into a slight hollow and Shifting back to human form.

“You seriously don’t know how to dress game when you live on the frontier?” Dean asked. “Are you vegetarian or something?”

“I do the magic! Being part of a community means chore sharing. I do the magic, that means someone else does the gutting and the blood and the whatever all else goes into preparing a meal.”

Cas watched Dean and Gabe bicker while Dean adeptly shifted the pronghorn around to expose the belly, popping out a single sharp claw and using it to slice open the carcass. “So you’re saying you use your magic skills to lord it over the others.”

Cas was surprised. Very few Familiars had the control to perform a partial shift like that. Nora hadn’t. The only time she’d done so was when she was upset and feathers sprouted in her hair. In fact, Cas had never personally witnessed such a thing before. He calmly held out his knife to Dean, hilt first. Claws might do a good job, but a sharp knife was still better.

“I’m saying no such thing. I do things other people can’t. Other people do things I can’t.”

“You could learn how to dress a kill.”

Charlie, still in fox form, whined.

Dean accepted the knife from Cas with a nod of thanks and a small smile. 

“Where did you even learn how to, city boy?” Gabe asked as he watched Dean work with easy confidence. 

“We didn’t spend all our time in the city,” Dean told him. “We would take family trips up north. I’m a big cat. Mom, too. Even Dad and Sam liked to get out of the city now and then.” 

Charlie moved and curled up in Gabe’s lap, shoving her nose under his hand until he started scratching her behind the ears. Dean watched out of the corner of his eye, wondering what that would be like, if Cas would… well. Sometimes, when he was in cat form back home, Sammy would stroke down the length of his spine and under his chin, or lightly scratch behind his ears like that. It felt so damned good, almost like being drugged. It was best when it was a warm, sunny day, and he had the twin pleasures of sunshine and affectionate touch. A warm sunny day like this one, with the heat warming his fur. 

He might be, just the slightest bit, jealous of Charlie right now. Cas had nice hands, really nice hands, with neatly trimmed nails. From that time he’d first seen the corruption in person he knew those nails would scratch just right, and even with the light temporary bond, he’d know just exactly where the best place to scratch would be. Maybe Dean would even grant him the ultimate honor of exposing his belly and letting the Witch scratch him there.

Cas glanced towards him, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Shit. He needed to stop letting his fancies get away from him, especially now that their bond was getting stronger and Cas could catch hints of what Dean was feeling. Dean flushed and turned his attention to gutting the pronghorn.

“So you don’t know how to cook either?” he asked Gabe, his voice rougher than it had been a moment ago.

“Cooking is different.” Gabe at least wasn’t shying away and hiding from the blood. No one could survive out here and be that squeamish. “I’ve learned a few things only to avoid eating only hardtack and jerky while out on patrol.”

“We have a few spices in the pack,” Cas volunteered. “If you like to season your meat. Thank you for providing fresh meat for dinner. Do you usually prefer to eat in human form or shifted? When you’re shifted, do you prefer raw or cooked?” He sounded genuinely curious. 

Then again, that wasn’t a surprise. Dean hadn’t known Cas that long, but he was always curious about everything. Even if he didn’t ask, it was obvious in the way he tipped his head to the side, his brows squinching together as he contemplated whatever he saw or heard.

“I don’t mind either way,” Dean answered. “I thought Gabe here especially wouldn’t like it if there were chunks already missing. So stew?” he asks. “Ellen sent some potatoes with us too, right?”

“Yes. She did. And carrots, as well as trail bread. I can cast a preservation spell on whatever we don’t eat today. There appears to be quite enough meat for a few meals,” Cas volunteered. 

“We can leave some for scavengers, too, the parts that aren’t easily butchered.” Dean knew how to use most of an animal. He was taught that if you had to take a life, not to be wasteful. “Pelt is nice. Do you tan hides back at the settlement?”

“Mm,” Cas hummed in agreement. “Hides are useful for many things. We try not to be wasteful. Resources here are limited. Whatever we can make ourselves, we do. It’s that much less we have to travel to Rockville to obtain.”

Charlie got up, stretched, and licked Gabe’s hand briefly before finding her own pouch and disappearing briefly. When she returned she sat down cross-legged near the fire. “Thank you for providing,” she told Dean. “Antelope is good. I saw you take it down. Very efficient.”

Dean flashed her a smile. “Thank you.” Efficiency in the kill was important. His mother had spent a great deal of time and effort teaching him how to hunt the right way. Honoring prey meant killing swiftly, with as little suffering as possible.

Once dinner was complete, Cas followed through on casting preservation spells on the leftovers while Gabe walked the perimeter setting up wards. Preservation spells hardly took any energy, so Cas didn’t need him and Dean took the opportunity to stretch and wash up at the small nearby stream. 

This was new for the four of them, and yet establishing a routine was simple. Charlie laid out the bedrolls and winked at Dean as she set his right near to Cas’. 

Dean gave her a flat look, but didn’t say anything about it.

“Your wards strong enough to rely on without anyone staying up to keep watch?” Dean asked, watching Gabe. He could feel a faint tingle of the other man’s magic at work. Nothing like what he felt when Cas worked magic, but he wasn’t attuned to Gabe the same way. Even after this short of a time, he knew when Cas was working magic. Even this preservation spell he could feel as a whisper against his skin, like a puff of breath at the sensitive spot right behind his ear.

“Why don’t you test them and find out?” Gabe suggested with a sly grin.

Charlie flicked an acorn at him. “You know he wouldn’t trigger them.”

“Charlie, you’re not supposed to tell him that. Where’s the fun in that?” Gabe pouted.

“I don’t know why you persist in believing I’m entirely ignorant of magic,” Dean commented. “Or you just want me to believe you’re so shitty at it you can’t manage simple exceptions?” 

Gabe gasped in mock outrage. “What makes you think my exceptions are simple?”

Charlie put a placating hand on his shoulder and lightly squeezes. “You’re overly tired, Gabe. Go to sleep.”

It was interesting to watch the two of them together. Charlie and Gabe didn’t seem like they should work, but they did. 

“Are we keeping in the same general direction tomorrow?” Dean asked Cas softly as he settled down on his bedroll. If he continued to talk business, it meant his mind wouldn’t wander to less professional things. He had to be especially diligent as close as he was to the Witch right now. 

“Yes,” Cas answered, equally softly. “I want you to see the true border of the frontier. This portion… this is recovering, more quickly with our assistance. But you need to see what the corruption can do, unchecked.” Cas’ blue eyes gleamed where they reflected the soft glow of the banked embers from their cookfire. He was lying on his back. That didn’t seem like it would be comfortable, but who knew. Maybe he wove some sort of a spell to create a cushion of air beneath himself, to protect himself from the inevitable rock in the middle of his spine. Or ass cheek.

Times like that, Dean would just Shift. Cats weren’t fussy the same way. A bit of rough ground was nothing. Human skin bruised so easily. Charlie had done a decent job laying the bedrolls down, however, Dean didn’t have a single distraction to keep him from watching Cas. 

-oOo-

Dean was the first to wake up the next morning, with no memory of having drifted off to sleep the night before. After adding wood to rekindle the banked fire, he wandered over to the river to wash up. 

The sun was just starting to rise, painting the sky orange. Dean sat on the river bank, watching the water flow over barely submerged stones. It swirled, sometimes catching a leaf and making it dance, sometimes pooling and foaming, sometimes getting caught behind branches and twigs before falling over in miniature waterfalls. While he watched the water, Charlie came up beside him, seating herself and wrapping her arms around her knees. 

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey.” He picked up a pebble and tossed it into the water.

Charlie watched him for a while, then picked up her own pebble and tossed it. She didn’t say anything, just kept him company.

“How long have you and Gabriel been partnered?” Dean finally asked.

She stretched out her legs, picking a tiny yellow flower and twirling the stem between her fingers. “Let’s see… going on three years now.”

“You a temporary contract?”

“No. Permanent bond.”

He looked over at her, surprised. 

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. You don’t know him well enough yet. He’s quirky and… okay, weird. But our magic just fits together. He’s my best friend. And because I know you want to ask, no, we’re not a mated pair bond. I prefer the ladies.”

“Cas’ previous Familiar was female, right?”

“Nora, yes. We weren’t together like that, though. Friends.” She sighed, looked out over the river. Her normally cheerful demeanor turned sad, wistful. “Her Shift form was a crow. Having a flying Familiar has some advantages. She was able to scout from the air, see the places where the vegetation was dead or dying, then direct Cas or Gabe to the spot so they could purify the area.”

“Can’t they, I don’t know, get some sort of direction on it using their magic? Or can’t you smell it yourself? When we were close enough I could smell it.” He wrinkled his nose at the memory.

“Sometimes. It’s not as precise as Nora’s visuals were. They end up triangulating. That’s one of the things Gabe is better at than Cas, though maybe part of it is due to me. It’s not just the spots where the corruption pollutes the environment, though. Sometimes we have to track down and deal with things that have been corrupted.”

“What sorts of things?”

“Animals, mostly. Sometimes people, but there are so few people in these parts that it’s usually animals. If a pronghorn eats some grass that was tainted, or if an owl eats a mouse that ran through a patch of the corruption… whatever the cause, the effect is horrific.”

Dean shuddered. He had a great appreciation for nature, and natural life forms. The idea of them being twisted and turned into something evil didn’t sit well with him.

“I agree about flying Familiars having certain advantages. My sister-in-law has a red-tailed hawk Shift form. When we went out to the northern wilds on a hunt, there were things she was very good at that I can’t do at all.”

“You haven’t talked a lot about what you left behind,” Charlie observed, quietly, in such a way that left it open for him to continue on the topic or not, as he preferred.

Dean shrugged. “Yeah. I try not to think about it too much.” Thinking about his family made his throat ache. He missed them, missed them so much. Coming here was the right thing to do, and he liked Cas. They might well have the potential to make a permanent partnership bond like Charlie and Gabe had done. But he missed his family.

“Fair. I try not to think about it too much, either. I think you’d find that’s true of most of us. People don’t usually come to the frontier because they’re leading an idyllic life back on the coast.” She tossed another pebble into the stream.

“Cas said not to ask anyone about their lives back home. That if they wanted you to know, they’d tell you themselves.”

“Good rule to live by,” she replied. “Hard not to be curious, I’ll admit. Still. Good rule to live by.”

“Okay.” He intended to take that to heart. She was right; it was difficult not to be curious. Curiosity was alright, he supposed, so long as he didn’t act on it. There were so many things he was curious about. A lot of them centered around Castiel Angelus. Their lawyer cousin Balthazar hadn’t told him much about the circumstances that sent Cas and Gabe out to the frontier. Apparently he hadn’t told Cas and Gabe much about his own circumstances, either, which he had to reluctantly admire. Mr. Angelus the lawyer surely owed more allegiance to his own kin than he did to a random Familiar he happened to sign to a Witch/Familiar limited contract, sight unseen by the Witch.

Dean pulled his knees up and rested his arms on them, then rested his chin on his bicep. 

Charlie leaned against him. That was nice. Familiars tended to be more tactile than Witches, depending on their shift form. Cats were often loners, but Dean had grown up in a tight-knit family. He felt protective over Charlie, too, even this early in their friendship.

“I’d already left the city when I met Gabe,” she offered, speaking softly. “It was east of here, and south. Down in Sainte Mareille, near the Gulf. I… got in a bit of trouble, stuck in a situation where Familiars were considered an abomination, Witches not much better. Gabriel got me out. I could tell that he was a powerful Witch, but he didn’t ask anything of me despite the fact it was obvious he had no Familiar. For me… I could tell, you know? Something about him resonated with me. He was just going to get me to safety and then leave me on my own, but I told him I wanted to stay with him. He wouldn’t take more than a working relationship at first, but I wore him down.” She chuckled. “And now, here we are. I’m not _ in _ love with him, but I love him dearly. Rough edges and all. We make each other better, and not just with the magic.”

Dean nodded in understanding. He wondered… was something like that possible for him and Cas? They fit together so easily that it was sometimes difficult to remember this was a temporary bond.

-oOo-

“We should reach the Great River before noon,” Cas said when Dean and Charlie made their way back to the campfire. “You’ll want to shift back to human form before we get there, or it may hit you harder than you expect, especially with your first encounter. I am, of course, assuming that you are planning to travel in shift form, as you usually do.” The Angelus brothers were both up, most everything packed and ready to go.

Dean nodded. “Easier that way.” He offered a small smile as he accepted a mug of coffee from Cas. He looked away again fairly quickly when Cas smiled back at him. 

Cas blinked, wondering what that was about.

“For me, too,” Charlie agreed. She stumbled over to pour herself a cup of coffee as well. “The basket is a lot more comfortable than sitting in a saddle all day long.” 

“That’s because you have a bony ass,” Gabe told her. 

Charlie scowled, but didn’t respond, too busy burying her nose in her mug. 

“I actually like riding a horse,” Dean volunteered, deciding he’d best at least try and be social despite the heavy mood settling over their party. “It’s just that most of them don’t like me very much.”

“Have you considered raising a foal from infancy? If it were well acquainted with you, it would not fear your scent,” Cas suggested, happy enough to go along with the lighter subject matter.

“Thought about it. Wasn’t much opportunity back east. We live in the city. Training a horse requires more space.”

“Sort of like we have out here,” Gabe mused out loud. “Imagine that.”

“A couple problems with that one,” Dean responded. “Where am I going to find a foal? Also, this is a one year contract.” That topic felt almost taboo, but. It was the truth. There was a chance, yes, but no guarantees Dean would still be here after the year was up.

Cas’ brows drew low at that. He stood abruptly and walked towards the horses. “We should be hitting the trail.”

Gabe scowled at Dean. “Now look at what you did.”

Charlie sighed, finished her coffee and dumped the mug, then moved behind a convenient rise to shift.

"I didn’t do anything.” Dean stood up as well and kicked some dirt over the fire. He refused to meet Gabe’s eyes, because, yeah. He felt bad. Was he supposed to just ignore the truth of it, though? He _ did _have a one-year contract.

No one spoke while they finished breaking camp and saddling up. Dean packed up his satchel with his clothes before shifting, then maneuvered the strap over his head to carry it to Cas.

Cas took a moment before turning towards him and taking the pack. He sighed, ran his hand lightly over Dean’s head. Somehow it was easier to touch when Dean was a cat.

Dean wasn’t sure, but the touch felt like an apology.

He pushed into Cas’ hand and rumbled his own wordless apology. 

All four of them were more somber as they continued to head towards the river.

The closer they got, the more on edge Dean felt._ *Now. Cas, we need to pause now,* _ he finally said a full hour before noon. _ *I need to shift before I crawl right out of my skin.* _ Every other piece of corruption he had come across up to this point was a mere drop in the water compared to how he felt now. He couldn’t see it, yet, but he could feel it. The closest comparison he could come to was being covered in biting ants. 

Cas nodded and reined in, silently signaling Gabe to do likewise. Charlie also jumped down out of her basket, whining unhappily.

“Getting close, aren’t we,” Gabe observed.

“Yes. Even I can feel it pressing against me.” He reached to loosen Dean’s satchel from the saddle ring, and held it down for him. “Here you go. Don’t go far. In fact, we can simply turn our backs to you, and you can shift right here.”

_ *You realize I’m not that modest, right?* _

Dean shifted right there to prove his point. He caught Cas’ eye and smirked before he bent down to open his satchel and pulled his clothes out.

Cas turned as quickly as he could, but not before he caught an eyeful of toned limbs, freckle-spangled shoulders, delicious musculature tapering down to—no. No, no, no.

Gabe, the traitor, laughed. Cas heard a swift slap. “Ow! Charlie!”

He looked out into the distance. The terrain was rising here, gradually climbing up to what he knew from prior trips would end in a bluff dropping suddenly down to the wide river below.

Dean didn’t dawdle in pulling his clothes on. He made quick work of it, then fastened the satchel back to Smoky’s saddle himself. He honestly didn’t know what he was doing. He liked getting a reaction out of Cas, but to what purpose? 

Something to think about later, maybe. Certainly not this close to what felt like something that was going to make him sick as soon as he laid eyes on it in person. 

Cas swung down out of the saddle.

“Do we need to go all the way?” Charlie asked, her voice uncharacteristically small, her usually bright eyes cloudy and dim.

“No, you don’t have to,” Gabe assured her, giving her a hand up to sit in front of him atop his horse. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged.

Cas nodded. “Dean and I will go alone.” He handed Smoky’s lead to Gabe, turned back towards Dean. “Are you ready?”

Dean rolled his shoulders. “Probably not, but let’s do this anyhow. Lead the way.” He glanced at Charlie and thought about how the touch of his Witch was a very good idea right now. He followed through on that idea by reaching out to clasp his hand with Cas’.

Cas looked at him, his blue eyes flashing through different emotions too rapidly to track. Even the connection between them swirled and shifted, until it steadied with resolute determination. He squeezed Dean’s hand and tugged him slightly closer.

“The top of the ridge should be far enough.”

Every step was more difficult. Whatever was on the other side was terrible. Dean felt like he was slogging through a mud slick after heavy rains.

They reached the high point of the elevation, Cas stepping up first, then giving Dean a hand up.

Dean’s legs shook when he took that final step, his gaze locked on Cas until he felt steady enough to look anywhere else.

The difference between the east bank and the west bank of the river was startling. This was not just death, but an open seeping wound. Dean tightened his grip on Cas and took in a careful breath. It took every bit of strength in him not to fall ill. 

It might almost be beautiful, if Dean were capable of looking at the scene without the overlay of corruption. There were areas of healthier ground where the trees grew tall and lush, creating islands of emerald green dotted along the cracked black and gray rock. Some grasses clung to the ground, spiraled out from the tree lines. 

Underneath it all, souring the view, was the same feel of rotting, stagnant swamp Dean had gotten from that first patch of corruption he had come across. Only this was magnified to a tremendous degree.

“How?”

Cas just shakes his head as he searches for words. “I don’t know. Not really. It affects you worse than it does me, doesn’t it.” That wasn’t a question. He could feel that Dean was barely holding on. “The energy you’re feeding me... it’s still clean, but I can tell that’s because you’re forcing it to be. We don’t need to stay here. You’ve seen it. We can leave now.”

The stubborn part of Dean didn’t want to leave. What did he really gain, though, what did he really prove by standing here for longer? 

“If we were to clear a patch, it would be swallowed up nearly immediately by corruption again, wouldn’t it.” 

“On the other side of the river?” Cas studied it. “Probably. Or else it would require constant vigilance. Start with a small foothold, and gradually move on from there. Gabe and I have discussed the question at length. We’ve come up with a number of different theories and possible approaches, ranging from the methodical to the wildly fantastic.”

Dean nodded. If he weren’t feeling so overwhelmed he’d smile at that. No question about whose ideas were methodical and whose were fantastic.

“The problem is that we don’t really know what the source of the corruption is. Without knowing the source, it is difficult to determine the cure.”

Cas let go of Dean’s hand only long enough to wrap his arm around him and guide him back from the edge of the bluff. Dean allowed it, grateful this once for Cas to override his stubborn side. 

“It’s a wonder animals get near enough to become corrupted in the first place.” 

“Agreed.” Cas rubbed his thumb lightly in the small of Dean’s back, the urge to comfort nearly overwhelming. He didn’t like the pale, drawn look of Dean’s expression. He felt terrible for placing it there. He knew this was important. Objectively, he knew that Dean needed to understand what they were up against. Even so, he didn’t have to like it. “Dean.” He stroked his palm up Dean’s spine. “I... I am sorry, for doing this to you.”

Dean shook his head. “No. You were right to take me here. Just... let’s get farther away, okay? And let me shift again. I’m going to need some time to get rid of this taint. God. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to be in the middle of that, if it feels so wrong even from this distance.”

“We’ve no immediate plans to wade into the middle of it. No longer range plans to do so, either,” Cas assured him. “Let’s collect Gabe and Charlie and move away from here.” 

The other Witch and Familiar were a bit farther away than they were when Dean and Cas left them, but not overmuch. Dean nodded at them both, silent, before he shifted and took off back towards the general direction of Willow River. Cas could handle updating them, if they even needed an update. 


	8. Chapter 8

Dean was still quiet by the time they returned to camp that night, overwhelmed by the sheer scope and immensity of corruption on the other side of the Great River. He didn't find many things daunting. He figured he could conquer just about anything with a smile and a can-do attitude, but this? Healing the corruption felt like it would be an impossible task. 

Cas flicked a concerned glance towards him, clasped his shoulder briefly, but said nothing as he went about starting the campfire, methodically layering tinder, small twigs, and larger pieces of wood. 

Gabe, on the other hand, flung himself onto the ground on the other side of the firepit, propped up on his elbow. “So. You’ve been uncharacteristically quiet all the way back. Not an uncommon reaction to seeing the other side of the river, got to say.”

Dean shrugged. “Just… shit, man. What even is the point? There’s so much. So. Much. There’s no way we can heal all of that.”

Charlie settled beside him, tucking herself under his arm and leaning into his side. Dean wrapped his arm around her, grateful for her presence. 

“I hear ya,” Gabe said. “It’s not a quick and easy task. West of the river… that’s something we’ll have to nibble at once we get the eastern side clear. It’s been there for centuries. It ain’t going away in a year. Or even a decade. But it won’t happen at all if we don’t start.”

“It’s like that saying,” Charlie piped up. “How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.”

Dean snorted.

Cas used his magic to create a spark once he had the kindling properly arranged. “We did not show you the scope of the corruption to demoralize you,” he said. “But it’s important to know what we’re up against. We can’t let the corruption get a foothold on this side of the river. My personal goal is less to tackle the west so much as to be vigilant on this side of the river.”

“This side of the river was much worse a hundred years ago,” Gabe said. “Or so I’ve been told. Since Cassie and I have been here, we’ve made a lot of progress. Not to be immodest, but the two of us, the _ four _ of us, are likely more powerful than most if not all of the Witches that have come before us.”

“If left unchecked, would this eventually spread all the way to the east coast?”

“Hard to know, but… seems like it would.” 

Dean shuddered. “So what’s the goal, here? To keep it from spreading? Or to open up the frontier for further settlement? I’d always heard the latter, but… fuck, man. I can’t see letting people live here. Way too dangerous.”

“People will come whether or not anyone formally allows it,” Cas spoke, his words weary. “There are always those who need a new start, those who hunger for opportunity, those who look westward with stars in their eyes and dreams of self-made wealth. Those who must escape an untenable situation.”

Dean looked at him then, curious but determined not to ask. Their words echoed in his mind. _ Everyone has their reasons, but we don’t ask. _

Cas looked back at him and sighed. “When I was young, I was ignorant. Perhaps willfully so. My magic manifested young. I was five years old when I worked my first cantrip, entirely unintentionally. I saw Michael create a magelight, thought it looked pretty, and made my own. Mine was smaller, unsteady, and had a tendency to dip and bob about in the air rather than remaining stationary, but it was a magelight.”

“He passed out afterwards,” Gabe volunteered. “Slept for a day and a night. Freaked Dad out, though Mom just shrugged and said he’d wake up when he was ready to.”

Cas nodded agreement. “I didn’t know anything about Familiars then, nothing more than that they were always about. I didn’t understand about the special partnership between a Witch and a Familiar. So I used solely my own powers to create that light, and nearly extinguished the spark of my magic in the process.”

He looked across to Dean. “In any event, that was the beginning of my experience with magic. I was immediately fascinated with it.”

“And devoted the next twenty years of your life studying arcana?” Dean said, a faint smile on his lips. "Nose buried in dusty old books written in dead languages and fading ink?"

Cas chuckled. “Yes, more or less.”

“To the exclusion of almost anything else,” Gabe said. “Let me tell you, no one can be quite as oblivious to everything other than what he’s focused on than my brother.”

“I’ve noticed that,” Dean said. “When he’s not making a point out of paying attention to anything other than what he’s focused on.”

Cas shrugged one shoulder. “It’s at times a benefit, at times… less so. In any event, my focus on learning magic meant that I really wasn’t paying attention to current events, politics, or even what other members of my family were up to.”

Gabe nodded. “Oblivious.”

“Thank you for your contributions, Gabriel.” Cas shot him an exasperated look.

“You’re welcome.” Gabe grinned unrepentantly.

Cas shifted, deliberately turning his back towards his brother. Gabe started flicking tiny pebbles at his back, but Cas ignored him. “I was happy with my studies. There’s something pure about working magic, something joyful.”

“Like when I’m shifted,” Dean surmised.

“Yes, as best I can tell from what I feel out of you through our link. When I reached sixteen, I was informed that it was time for me to form a contract bond with a Familiar, because my talents were needed to support the family’s goals and aspirations. I had no reason to question that.” He was uncomfortable telling this part of the story, but he and Dean were getting to know each other well enough now that it seemed important. Gabe and Charlie both knew this already, but they wouldn’t share the story with Dean. Chatty they might both be, but they wouldn’t tell a tale that wasn’t theirs. 

“I was excited about the prospect, honestly. My studies were quite clear that being partnered with a Familiar was important for working the most interesting magic. I’d done some small partnering, with some of the Familiars associated with the Angelus family, but never the same person more than a handful of times.”

Dean frowned at that. “That seems backwards to me. Even if you don’t have a bond or a contract, there’s benefits to working with the same person until you get it figured out. A close friend is an excellent mentor. I worked with my father a lot, even though he was, of course, bonded to my mother. Once Sammy got old enough I started working mostly with him, under their guidance."

Cas nodded. “I have since come to learn that is the more commonly accepted method. However, that is not the way things were done in our household.” 

“Okay…”

“As Gabriel has noted more than once, I was oblivious to the oddities. I barely knew the names of the Familiars I practiced with, and when it was time for the first short term contract, I was presented with Otto. He was substantially older than I. I thought he was in his sixties or seventies. I learned later that he was in his early forties.” Cas swallowed hard, his gaze turning haunted. 

Dean simply waited for him to continue, shifting closer until his knee pressed against Castiel’s thigh. 

Cas exhaled, nodded, and resumed. “I didn’t understand this until much later, but my family had either discovered or learned of a way to warp the bond between Witch and Familiar so that the balance was tilted strongly in favor of the Witch. I had little in common with Otto, and Otto… Otto hated the Angelus family. He hated _ me. _ Being bound to someone who actively despised me was…”

“Horrible,” Dean supplied.

“Yes, that.”

Clearly Dean was horrified, and with good reason. 

“Gabriel left home when I was seventeen. I didn’t know how or why, just that one day he was there, and the next he wasn’t.”

Gabe looked down. “You know I wanted to take you with me. But I couldn’t figure out how to make it happen.”

“I know that now, and I understand. You had to leave when you did, or you would have been broken. Those two years before you got me out, though, were difficult.”

Gabe nodded. “I know,” he whispered.

Cas sighed again. “In any event, I was bonded with a string of Familiars, all of whom had no fondness for me or for Witches in general. I didn’t understand why my experience with Familiars was so different from that of the tales I’d read and romanticized in my childhood. Mother told me they were fairytales written by the general public, those who had no idea how a Witch/Familiar bond was actually supposed to work.”

Dean snorted. 

“Then Gabe returned. He waylaid me when I was out in the gardens reading an old text on esoteric sigils and their meanings.”

“Light reading for amusement,” Gabe interjected.

“He told me then that everything I’d been taught about Witches and Familiars was wrong. Well, not everything. Just the important parts about how the relationship between them was supposed to work. He told me Otto was dead, and forced me to really think. He left again, but told me where I could find him in one week’s time. He told me to really look and listen.”

“The details… perhaps I’ll share them someday, but with Gabe’s pointing me in the right direction, my eyes were opened. I… didn’t care for what I saw. I considered standing up and sharing my indignation, but then I remembered that our father had disappeared, and perhaps there was more to that than I realized as a young child. I chose not to do anything until I met with Gabriel — and when I met with him, I brought money and my most prized possessions. We left New Avalon that very night.”

Dean picked up a stick and poked at the growing fire, sending a spark or two floating up into the air. “The more I learn, the more it seems I made the right decision doing what I could to avoid a contract with Michael or Lucifer.” Cas and Gabe’s tale of Otto and his premature death hinted at reasons behind either of the elder Angelus brothers lack of a permanent, steady Familiar bond already. 

Cas looked at him sharply. “That was a real possibility?” He hadn’t known that.

Well. Honestly, he’d known next to nothing about Dean, and hadn’t asked. Now he knew some things about his family, that he was close to them, that he missed them terribly. But he still knew nothing about what drew Dean to answer the advertisement and accept the position of Castiel’s Familiar.

Dean looked at him, serious. “Very much so. How much do you know about the different lineages of Familiars in New Avalon, and along the whole coast, really?”

Gabe snorted, but for once chose not to speak. This was between Cas and Dean. 

Cas chose to ignore him, especially because he knew exactly what his brother was thinking. Back before he ever worked with a Familiar, when he had dreams of how it would go, he studied the Familiar lines and tried to imagine who he might end up with. “A fair amount. Campbells are the glowing standard, of course.”

Dean actually turned pink at that. “Glowing, huh? Well. Uh. My mom? Mary Campbell.”

Gabe couldn’t keep quiet at that one. “Holy fuck, are you serious?”

“Winchester.” Cas’ focus was absolute, He stared at Dean while small, disparate pieces of a puzzle clicked into place in his mind. “Samuel Campbell’s only daughter, Mary, broke from the tradition of the head of her family arranging her Witch partnership and instead entered into a bond of her own choosing. A Winchester Witch?” 

Dean nodded once, studying Cas’ face and paying attention to whatever emotions leaked through their bond. He didn’t know how Cas was going to take it. Being a Campbell wasn’t something he was ashamed of, exactly. Most of the time. He had serious disagreements with how Samuel Campbell went about his business, but go back a few generations farther and there were plenty of ancestors he could be proud to be descended from.

Mom had made sure he knew about them.

Cas didn’t know how he felt about it. It was more than a little bit of a shock to find a Familiar that his brothers would have been avidly pursuing instead sat here with him. It did explain a lot, though, about the sheer difference between partnering with Nora and partnering with Dean. 

Dean was a Campbell. 

It didn’t really change his impressions. He already was impressed by Dean and by how they worked together. “I will do whatever I can to help you remain outside of my brothers’ influence,” he promised. 

Dean smiled at that. “Thanks, Cas.” He reached behind his neck and rubbed. “It wouldn’t even necessarily be them, you know? Samuel would just take the highest bidder, and that’s not the way it’s supposed to be. A Witch/Familiar partnership is supposed to be a _ partnership _, one that’s chosen by the two of them on an equal footing. If one side or the other is coerced then you lose a lot of the potential.”

“Preaching to the choir, Dean-o,” Gabe interjected. “And highest bidder? If Samuel was pimping out his only unbonded direct blood-descendant Familiar, you can bet Mikey and Lucy would be in a bidding war. Or just decide to skip Samuel altogether and pursue the issue independently.”

“They wouldn’t come out here, would they?” Charlie asked. She had mostly been sitting quietly and listened. She already knew Cas’ story, after all. 

“Not personally,” Gabe answered. “Even if they knew, they would send agents out. Too much dust, you know? Zar won’t tell them. He knows how to skate around the family drama. That’s why we chose him to handle the contracts in the first place. Besides being a lawyer, of course.” 

“Surprised he told me you were an Angelus Witch to begin with, actually,” Dean said.

“You shouldn’t be,” Cas replied. “Balthazar would not keep something so important from you. He has integrity, though he does have a sense of humor which might sometimes challenge that.”

“Yeah, smart move. I would have been... well. Annoyed, to put it mildly. Whether or not I’d have been annoyed enough to head right back east, I don’t know. Probably not to New Avalon, but I might have chosen to disappear somewhere else entirely.”

“Sainte Mireille is a good spot to disappear,” Charlie volunteered. “I thought so, anyhow. As long as you avoid the South Quarter.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time I need to disappear,” Dean answered. “Not really sitting well with me to just let them do whatever, though.” 

“One battle at a time” Cas suggested. “The corruption seems an easy problem to solve in comparison to my elder brothers. Help me here, and afterwards? Afterwards I will return to New Avalon and help you there.” 

Dean nodded slowly. Cas wasn’t sure if it was in agreement or just in thought. “One battle at a time,” he repeated. “For now... let’s just get some rest, then get back to Willow River.”

They made it back to Willow River more swiftly than they’d made it out. Dean had rarely been so happy to see a place as he was to see the jagged skyline of the stockade. “A nice big glass of whiskey sounds awesome about now,” he murmured to himself.

Cas was close enough to hear him. “I have a bottle stashed in my room. I don’t know about you, but I am not quite ready for the Saloon. Come up and share it with me?”

“You keep whiskey in your room?” Dean arched a brow. “Wow, Cas, didn’t know you had it in you. I’m impressed.” He grinned a lazy grin. “I’d be honored.”

“Well. I prefer the Saloon,” Gabe said.

“Me too,” Charlie said. “I am definitely in the mood for one of Ellen’s hearty stews. Or maybe Donna has another pie there... Or both! Both is good! Come on, Witchy-poo. Let’s go.”

Gabe waved, and the two of them veered off towards the saloon.

Cas and Dean headed back to the house. Cas led the way up the narrow staircase to the second floor. Dean looked around with unbridled curiosity. Cas tipped his head sideways. “Have you not been up here before?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Never received an invitation, and if there’s one thing I learned early and well, it’s that you never, ever walk into a Witch’s private space without an invitation. Not if you value all your parts staying attached where they started out.”

Cas snorted. “Well. That may be true for some, but you live here. There are no wards up here that would keep you out. Even the ones that Gabe set.”

The upstairs was simple — a small landing with three doors opening off it. One of the doors was colored in a pattern of purple with green polka dots. A second was painted in a buttery yellow color, with a daisy intertwined with a pale pink rose carved into the surface. The third door was natural wood, with a small bee. A witchlight encased in a glass globe hung from the ceiling, glowing with a soft white light.

“Hm. I wonder whose is whose.”

Cas didn’t bother replying to that. He opened the door to his room and stepped inside, making room for Dean. The space was simple. They lived on the frontier. He didn’t see any need for the embellishments and adornments common in the more civilized lands far to the east. The walls were framed and whitewashed, hung with shelves. Uniformly sized boxes were tucked away under the bed. The bed itself was narrow, wide enough only for himself. There was a pile of books stacked on the floor, and more on the shelves. 

“Always figured you had to have more books and stuff than what you’ve got downstairs,” Dean commented.

Cas raised a brow as he studied his Familiar. “Yes, of course. I had to leave most of the books at the Angelus family library behind when I left with Gabriel, but I was able to take a handful with me. I have since managed to acquire a few more. There were two books in the package cousin Balthazar sent with you from New Avalon, rare books on arcana. He hesitated. “Would you like to see them?”

In his experience people were rarely interested in his book collection. Even Gabriel avoided them unless he had no choice. Gabriel’s style of magic was far more instinctual than Cas practiced. Gabe didn’t use the tried and true forms captured in generations of spellbooks. He pictured what he wanted, and made it happen. Cas could do that when he had to, but he preferred to surround his spellworks in the structure and forms of tried and true sigils and incantations.

Dean smiled. “I’d like that. I’m not huge on books, myself, but I appreciate them. Sam, my brother, is never happier than when he’s in a library. Well, in a library or with Jess, but that’s another story.”

"I can only imagine, then, what it must be like if he were to be in a library with Jessica. Where are you never happier, Dean?” Cas pointed out the shelves with the particular books under discussion, and then pulled a bottle off of another shelf along with a couple of glasses.

“Oh my God, why did you put that image into my brain? Cas, you are evil, man. _ Evil _.” He scrubbed at his eyes.

“What image did I put into your brain?” Cas blinked as he handed over a glass of whiskey to Dean. It wasn’t any special vintage from back home, it was one of Ellen’s. Sometimes the good burn of grain whiskey was exactly what he wanted. 

“Seriously?” Dean gaped at him. “Oh my God.” He leaned back against the wall and laughed. “Cas. Castiel.” He could feel that Cas was completely puzzled. There wasn’t even the slightest hint of mischief or amusement in their bond. “You don’t have even the slightest hint of a dirty mind, do you. Sam and Jess. Imagining what it would be like if he were with her in a library. You know. _ With _ her. In the biblical sense.”

“I don’t know your brother nor his wife. Why would I be imagining them together in a biblical sense?” Dean, however. Dean was not difficult to imagine at all. Especially in moments like these where the Familiar was alight with good humor.

Dean tossed back the whiskey and held the glass out for more. “I’ma gonna need brain bleach now, thank you very much. Ugh.”

“You do realize I’m getting your base emotions and nowhere do you feel actual disgust.” Cas refilled his glass. “Was Sam named for your grandfather? An interesting choice, given your mother’s history with Samuel Campbell.”

“Samuel is a frequent name in the Campbell history. It’s complicated. I know that much. She’s never really explained all of her reasoning. Their reasoning, because obviously my father went along with it. Where did Castiel come from? Never heard that one anywhere else.”

“Also complicated. Despite her derision for fairytale, my mother occasionally has moments of fancy. Especially when under the influence of narcotics such as during and directly after childbirth.” Cas finished his own glass of whiskey and set it down. He removed his boots and sat down to make himself comfortable on his bed. “Now that you better know what we’re facing, you can be more involved in plotting out our action against the corruption.” 

Dean moved around, looking at things, reaching for items but stopping before he actually picked them up. “Thought you invited me up here to get drunk and forget about that nightmare for a little while. Not start strategizing against it.”

Cas shifted uncomfortably. Having Dean here in his room... he filled the space. More than filled it. His energy, his very being, felt enormous. 

“The goal has shifted from ‘a big glass of whiskey’ to getting drunk?” Cas asked in an attempt to deflect from his own thoughts. Dean had already mentioned the contract being a temporary one. It wouldn’t be smart to start allowing himself to hope for something more solid and permanent. Even if Dean was the most breathtaking Familiar he had ever come across. No, more than that. The most breathtaking man, be he Familiar or no.

“Well, you know, one big glass of whiskey leads to another, and then before you know it there you are. Nice and buzzed.” He did a quarter turn on one heel and sat down on the end of the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight. “You don’t feel like getting drunk after being around that crap? It’s either drinking or sex, and... well. Aren’t that many people here, honestly, and I haven’t figured out yet who’s open to it.”

Cas gritted his teeth. “Right.” He waved his hand towards the bottle of whiskey. “Help yourself. Is there anyone here you would… want to be open to it?”

Dean stood up again, moved to the small window and looked outside. “This is kind of a weird conversation, isn’t it.” The trickle of emotion that usually flowed between them closed off. Cas looked up sharply. Dean was shutting him out?

Why?

Cas swallowed. “In some respects, yes. In others... I should have foreseen it. You are a man with... healthy appetites. Gabriel would likely be a better person to ask than me. I have never... casual...” He cleared his throat, knowing that his face was burning. “I have always required some sort of a relationship with another before I felt any... desires, of a carnal nature.”

“Yeah, no. I’m not talking to Gabe. It’s fine. I’ll just… it’s fine.” He turned abruptly away from the window to pour himself another glass of the whiskey, and another for Cas as well. “So. Drunk?”

Cas took a long drink from the glass Dean had poured. “Actually I may have misspoken,” he said, feeling warm from the alcohol. His head felt pleasantly muddled. He was home, he was safe. He could let his guard down, at least a little. “I have felt attraction, just not the desire to do anything about it immediately. The risk of rejection and the attendant humiliation have always been too high.”

“What the... why the fuck would you be worried about rejection? I mean, look at you!”

“Look at me,” Cas repeated. “I am neither polished like Michael and Lucifer, nor outgoing like Gabriel. I prefer books and study to people. Generally speaking.” Dean could be an exception. “I am not fond of flaunting the Angelus wealth, either.”

“Fat lot of good that’d do you out here, anyhow. Not like there’s anything to buy. And even if you head out to Rockville, you still need to carry it back. And please. You’re... you’ve got that _ hair thing _going. And those eyes. And the... shoulders. The thighs. You definitely don’t look anything like a booky Witch.”

Hair thing? “Thank you?” Cas poured himself another glass and downed it just as quickly. “You also have eyes. And freckles. And…” He waved his hand in Dean’s general direction. 

“Well that was the poorest attempt at a compliment I’ve ever received. I also have eyes? I’m all aflutter.” 

Cas scowled at him. “This. This is why I don’t... why I haven’t... I am not good at it.” He slumped, discouraged.

Perhaps also just a little overdramatic, the tiny corner of his mind that wasn’t well on its way to intoxication pointed out. He metaphorically turned his back on that corner and flounced away.

“Hey, that doesn’t mean you should give up!” Dean sat down facing Cas, his thigh a solid warmth next to Cas’ own. “It’s not not working. Keep going. How would you woo me?”

Cas’ eyes went wide. He wasn’t very sober, but he wasn’t so drunk that he didn’t realize that was a dangerous, dangerous path to go down. 

Still... getting some free advice in the form of hypotheticals...

“I suppose... I suppose that should depend on my final objective, yes?” He looked at Dean questioningly. “The technique to obtaining brief physical gratification must surely be different than that used in service of a more permanent alliance.”

Dean barked out a laugh. “You’re killing me with the dirty talk. Not necessarily. You aren’t going to know straight off that you are aiming for a permanent alliance, are you? That comes with time and compatibility. I could spook if you go in right away talking about raising kids and those other couple things.”

“But I am not going to disrespect a potential life-time love by suggesting my sole interest in them is for their sexual prowess and other such superficial things.” He was vaguely aware that he sounded terribly prim and proper, like a school marm riding herd over a class full of students with an iron thumb. “If all I wanted was to fuck then rejection would be nearly meaningless.”

Dean flopped over. It didn’t look comfortable, the way he was sprawled over on top of Cas’ legs, but it didn’t seem to bother Dean any. “Too much whiskey to figure that one out. You got any music out here? You can serenade me.”

Cas’ breath caught as he looked down at Dean like that. He was beautiful, so beautiful, and the casual intimacy took his breath away. His heart hammered against his ribcage. “I doubt you—“

“CAS!” The door downstairs crashed open, and the shout was repeated. Charlie, it was Charlie, her voice higher and spiked with worry. “CAS! Get down here, there’s trouble coming! Riders coming back hurt!”

Cas stumbled out from under Dean and banged against the wall as he ran downstairs. His head was pounding, but he couldn’t worry about that now. “Who? Charlie. Who?” 

“It’s Bobby and Rufus.” Charlie trembled, barely able to keep her emotions in check. “Bobby and Rufus. Ellen is getting the back room cots ready.” 

Cas swore under his breath. “Gabe is out to assist?” That was the usual protocol... as soon as they knew, as soon as the scouts were in range to communicate distress, others would go to help, and Gabe was usually in the lead.

Once again he wished he could figure out a way to communicate over a distance with those he wasn’t bonded with, but even with Dean the communication link wasn’t reliable very far. As they’d worked together it had grown, and now they had a range of nearly two miles, but two miles wasn’t nearly near enough for their purposes.

Time enough to worry at that problem again later. For now he had work to do.

-oOo- 

Dean’s heart stuttered when he heard Charlie say that. “Cas. Dump the buzz through the link,” he commanded. He had followed fairly close behind Cas down the stairs.

“What?”

“The drunk. Push it at me through our link, I’ll process it. You can’t afford to be even a little bit drunk if you’ve got healing to do.”

It took him a moment, but his healing work helped him figure out how. “What about you?” Cas asked Dean. They were already moving out towards the Saloon.

“I’ll shift, it won’t affect me the same. It will be better for our bond anyhow. You’re going to need all the help you can get.”

As soon as Cas and Dean’s attention was elsewhere, Charlie took off after Gabe. Her message was delivered, she could be more help elsewhere. 

Dean ran ahead, opened the door for Cas, then slipped into a private corner to shift into his cat form. He knew how to deal with being drunk. He’d done it enough times. Even helped Sam out on the rare occasions his moose of a brother over-indulged. They were a team. He wasn’t about to let Sam get chewed out by their parents for getting drunk when he didn’t have to. He concentrated and got his heart pumping faster, cycling the blood and alcohol through, and pushing it out.

He could help Cas better when he wasn’t plastered.

The door to the saloon opened and some of the scouts carried Rufus and Bobby in. Dean’s heart lodged in his throat. Shit. Shit, fuck, shit. This was bad. 

Dean watched as Ellen gently but firmly pressed Cas towards Bobby. Rufus was… there wasn’t much of anything that could be done for Rufus. Even Dean could recognize that. The most she was going to be able to do for him was make him comfortable. 

Bobby was hardly in the clear, but he at least didn’t gurgle as he breathed. Cas set next to him with no hesitation.

Cas rolled up his sleeves. “I’ll need some water,” he said, his voice gruff. “We need to clean him up, see what exactly we’re dealing with here. Dean… I apologize in advance. I may not be as controlled as I usually am when I am drawing strength from you.” 

_ *Take what you need. Don’t worry about me. I can handle it.* _ He was horrified. Seeing Bobby like this… seeing Rufus like this… Dean didn’t know Rufus as well as he knew Bobby, but what he did know he liked. 

After some observation, Dean found that the best spot for him was underneath the cot. It allowed him to press up against Cas’ leg for physical contact while still being out of the way of the constant stream of people moving in and out at Ellen’s direction. Cas focused wholly on Bobby, holding nothing back in his efforts to heal the man. 

The copper tang of blood hung heavy in the air. 

Dean hated this, hated it with his whole being. Leaving himself this open, not holding anything back from Cas, meant that he could feel Cas’ terror. It was frankly amazing that the Witch could function at all, much less with the poise and competence he exhibited. “Ellen. I need an assistant. If you are busy with Rufus, please ask someone else to attend. Someone with a sturdy stomach.”

_ *Want me to shift back?* _ Dean offered.

“No, Dean. We both know I can draw more from you when you are shifted, and the energy is purer. I need that.”

Dean patted his foot with one paw in understanding and support.

Ellen called out an order, and soon Donna was there. 

“What do you need, Castiel?” she said, her tone steady and no-nonsense.

“Hold his head, talk to him. I need you to hold him here while I work. The corruption will be trying to destroy his life-spark. He needs something to focus on while I work to draw the taint from his body.”

Dean found himself focusing on Donna’s voice as well. Her positivity wasn’t meant for him, but he held on to it anyhow. The steady rhythm of Donna’s speech anchored him as he let himself drift.

Existing in a sort of haze, time passed as Cas methodically unwound and burned out every tangled, oily thread of corruption twining through Bobby’s body, until Cas stumbled upright and backed away from the cot. “That’s all I can do for him,” he said, his voice low and grumbly. “It’s up to him now.” He took a deep breath and turned towards Rufus. He set himself, and walked forward. Dean could feel the determination in his Witch, the steel backbone.

“Castiel.” Ellen curled her palm around the nape of Cas’ neck. “Castiel. Rufus is gone.” 

Dean crawled out from under the cot. His legs were a bit shaky but he pushed through it to stand as a support for Cas. Physical, this time. 

“No,” Cas denied. “I can do something for him.”

Ellen wrapped her arms around him, hugging him fiercely. “No, baby. No. You can’t. You can stop him from turning into something he’d never have wanted to be, but you can’t bring him back.”

Cas stiffened, then made a terrible sound that Dean never wanted to hear again.

Donna moved over to take Ellen’s place. She nodded her head in Bobby’s direction, encouraging Ellen to sit by his side now that he was stable. “You’ve done everything you can, Castiel. More than could have been expected. Come with me, now. Dean and I will get you all tucked up into bed, nice and warm. Won’t we, Dean?” 

_ *Cas, she’s right. You need to sleep.* _ Dean nudged him, helping Donna to steer him out of the infirmary. 

“No,” Cas protested, shaking his head, but he stumbled at the nudge. Dean had never seen him so drained, so completely wrung out. “No. I can help.”

_ *You did, Cas. You helped.* _

As soon as they were out of the door, Gabe joined them, reaching up to squeeze Cas’ shoulder. He looked down at Dean. “He needs to sleep,” Gabe said. “He’s not going to want to, but he needs to. I’ll take care of… the rest of what needs taking care of.” His eyes glinted with a hardness Dean had never seen there before. It made him shiver. Suddenly he understood on a visceral level what Cas had always told him. Gabe was a force to be reckoned with underneath the joking exterior.

As soon as they crossed the threshold into the Peppermint House, Dean shifted forms and wrapped his arms around Cas. “I’ve got him from here, Donna. Thank you. For everything. You helped me just as much as you helped Bobby and Cas.” 

“Here’s hoping we never have to repeat the experience, but any time, Dean.” She smiled at him, tinged with sorrow. “It was the very least I could do. Now. You go take care of this Witch of yours and don’t worry about a single other thing the rest of the night.” She pulled them both into a hug before turning around and leaving. 

“Come on, let’s get you up to bed.” Dean practically carried Cas up the stairs. He wasn’t a light man, either. 

Cas made a heart-rending sound of protest, but didn’t fight Dean. He was totally drained, absolutely wrecked. Dean pushed open the bee door and guided Cas onto the bed, pushing him down, reaching down to pull off his filthy socks. He realized with a start that Cas had never pulled his boots back on, when Charlie had first summoned them. 

“Dean. I…”

“Shh, shh,” Dean crooned, stroking Cas’ leg, then moving up to card his fingers through his hair and drop a light kiss on his temple. “I’m going to go get you something to drink, something to eat. You drained yourself too far, idiot.” Dean felt wobbly still himself, but stronger than Cas.

“He does this every time.” Charlie pushed into Cas’ room carrying a plate piled high with chicken and a glass of water. “I’ve got him from here, Dean. Why don’t you go get some sleep yourself? Don’t try to pretend you aren’t just as tired. I left you a plate of food down in the kitchen.” 

Dean stood, but hesitated in the doorway. “Did you and Gabe find anything?”

Charlie stared down Cas into taking a bite of the chicken before she turned to answer Dean. “We both realized we had no real idea which direction to head in, and could be doing more good here for the moment. There was no trace of what got them in the short distance we scouted, no. Now shoo, you are wobbling on your feet.” 

Still he hesitated. He didn’t want to leave Cas alone. The rumble of hunger from his stomach is what finally convinced him. “Take good care of him for me, Charlie.” 

“You know that I will. Take good care of yourself.” 

He nodded, and made his way back downstairs. He felt unmoored. Barely picking at his plate of food, Dean carried it with him to his room. Maybe this would all make sense in the morning. 

The urge to shift and go curl up on Cas’ bed with him was strong, but he resisted. Charlie was a Familiar. She’d know what to do. He forced himself to eat the chicken. She wasn’t wrong about that, either. He needed to replenish himself. His head was spinning, and if he was perfectly honest with himself, he wasn’t good for much of anything right now. What Cas had done… he’d never seen anything like that. Picking apart each individual tendril of corruption, teasing it into nothingness, unwinding it from where it coiled around Bobby’s essence… it was precise spellwork, intricate and complicated, requiring levels of concentration and finesse that Dean had never witnessed before.

Honestly, it left him impressed as hell with the Witch he’d managed to get himself bonded to.

Then his thoughts turned to Bobby, and Rufus, and he found himself involuntarily growling. 

Something had killed one of _ his people _ , and desperately injured ** _Bobby_ **. He hadn’t known the man long, but he already felt like family, more than anyone other than Cas himself. Maybe Charlie. Possibly, remotely possibly, Gabe. But definitely family.

That? That wasn’t acceptable. Whatever, whoever had done that? 

They were going to find out what it was like to deal with a pissed-off Dean Winchester.


	9. Chapter 9

“Castiel. Castiel.” 

Cas grumbled and burrowed deeper into his blanket cocoon. It was difficult to drift back down into sleep when his shoulder was being shaken. He was close to managing, though, when tactics changed and the blanket was stripped off of him entirely, startling him with a sudden rush of cold air. He sat up and blinked blearily. Garth stood at the side of his bed, hands on hips and expression a mixture of contrite and chastising. “Garth?” 

“Now Castiel,” Garth said as he began to fold the blanket up. “I know you’re tired and all, and I wouldn’t be bothering you after such an intensive healing. Some voted not to bother you. Ellen put her foot down and pointed out you would be even more of a grumpy gus if when you finally woke up you found no one had told you.” 

“Garth.” Cas sat up, the swirl of words starting to penetrate his foggy brain. The concern grew. “Told me what?” 

Garth sat the blanket down on the bed and smoothed away wrinkles. “Dean was getting twitchy what with no one making a move to go after what got Rufus and Bobby. He took off out the gates maybe half hour ago.” 

“What?” That woke Cas up entirely. He nearly fell out of bed in his haste to get up and gather some clothes together. “Alone? Why did no one stop him?” He started to put together a mental list of what supplies he would need, debated if he could afford to gather them and allow Dean to gain even more ground on him. 

“New thing we learned this morning. Not even Ellen can stop Dean when he has his mind set on something. Donna is saddling Smoky for you, and Ellen is getting together some provisions for the road. We’re hoping you have better luck in turning him right back around, but preparing for the worst just in case.” 

Cas paused in pulling a clean shirt on. “Thank you, Garth. You’re right, I would have been even more of a grumpy gus had no one come to let me know.” He clasped Garth’s shoulder in thanks, and finished getting dressed. 

Both Gabe and Charlie’s doors were securely closed, with no sound coming from behind them. Cas knew they were both up far longer than he was. With all of his focus on getting to Dean, he didn’t give more than a passing thought to his two housemates on his way out the door.

By the time Cas mounted up and rode through the gates, he was an hour behind Dean. He couldn’t sense whatever it was that Dean was tracking, but he could track Dean. He set Smoky southwest at a brisk pace, hoping to close the distance. Exhaustion pulled at him, but so far the adrenaline counteracted it. Pulling Bobby back from the brink of death was no small feat. Dean was a rock the entire time, having fed him a constant stream of magic. He had also been projecting a constant aura of worry and anger. Cas would have predicted this, if he hadn’t been so worn down he could barely put one foot in front of the other. 

He was considering if it would be worth it to pull Smoky to a halt and take the time to dunk his head in the cold stream they were running along the banks of, when the horse staggered to a halt on his own. Cas caught his balance and looked up to see Dean’s mountain lion sitting atop a boulder and staring at him with a steady green-eyed gaze. 

_ *Cas.* _ The flavor of the worry he projected was less sharp than what came through for Bobby last night, but still discernibly there. _ *You’re barely staying in the saddle.* _

“Dean. Did you expect I would learn you left and simply let you go on your own?” His tone was sharper than intended, influenced by his own worry for the Familiar. Dean didn’t take offense, though. Their bond allowed him to feel that it was worry driving the words instead of true anger. 

_ *I can take care of myself. You should be sleeping.* _

“Oh? You can take care of yourself better than Rufus and Bobby?” 

_ *You know that eyebrow thing doesn’t work on me, Cas,* _ Dean grumbled as he looked away. The tip of his tail started flicking back and forth. 

Cas couldn’t quite stifle the satisfaction at knowing he had won. So easily, too. The ‘eyebrow thing’ definitely worked. Gabe called it his smug bastard face. 

Dean hopped down off of the boulder and took off at a slow walk upstream. _ *There is a good spot not far up ahead with easy access to the stream. We can take a lunch break there and have the conversation you’re itching to have.* _

Smoky followed after Dean easily enough, once Cas loosened his hold on the reins. Not fifteen minutes later, he dismounted and hobbled the horse within easy distance of both fresh water and grass. Wordlessly, he pulled some clothes out of the saddlebags and set them down near the base of an aspen tree barely clinging to the banks of the stream. By the time he turned around again from unpacking whatever lunch Ellen had seen fit to make for them, Dean was shifted and dressed. He squatted down and rinsed his hands off in the water. These were not his city clothes, but rough spun and more suitable for the rigors of the frontier. Normally, the trousers hung a little loose around Dean’s frame. At the moment the fabric clung to his thighs and highlighted every shift in muscle as he effortlessly maintained his balance. 

“You fall asleep standing up?” Dean asked as he straightened and shook water droplets off of his hands. He wiped the remaining moisture off on his hips and walked up to take the oilcloth package from Cas’ hands. “Cas?”

“I’m…” Cas cleared his throat, cheeks flushed. He was thankful that the bond was more muted when his Familiar was in human form; it allowed him to pretend Dean had no notion of what was going through his mind. The small quirk at the corner of Dean’s lips said quite clearly that Dean did have a notion. This was not the time to pursue that track, either way. “I’m fine.” 

“Aren’t we always.” Dean brought the food over to a fallen log and began to unwrap it. He broke a pocket pie in half, took a sniff. “Venison and carrot. Nice.”

Cas accepted half of the pie from Dean’s hand as he sat down on the log. The exhaustion started to tug more insistently at the edges of his consciousness. It took him a long moment to notice Dean’s hand held steadily in front of his face. It took another long moment to figure out why it was there. Finally, he reached up and clasped his hand with Dean’s. 

The soft, slow trickle of magic fed through the Familiar bond pushed exhaustion back to more tolerable levels. “This is a temporary fix at best. I’m going to need real recovery time sooner rather than later.” 

“I know, Cas.” Dean took a large bite of his pie, and was occupied for a while chewing it. “We’ll stop once it’s dark. Best I can tell it’s a bear that got Rufus and Bobby.” His hand tightened around Cas’, the only outward indication of his feelings. “I’m not the best at mundane tracking methods, but sure looked like bear paw prints to me.”

“A bear. A corrupted one?”

“Big one, too,” Dean nodded. “Most of the bears around here we’ve come across, their tracks are not much wider than my own.”

“You’ve been tracking, alone, a corrupted bear that dwarfs you in size.” Cas’ temper started to flare.

“It doesn’t sound that smart when you say it that way. I had it handled.”

“Dean. We have a partnership. Do you think that I don’t care Rufus died? That Bobby still could?”

Dean’s head dropped and he took in a deep breath. “I don’t think that. I know you care,” he said, his answer subdued. 

“Just. Tell me more about this bear. How are you tracking it?” Cas took another bite of his lunch. Eating was important. Keeping his strength up could be crucial.

“We’ve talked about it a little, before,” Dean answered. “When the land is corrupted, any magic around it feels twisted. Tangled. Corrupted animals become tied in to the magic grid like some sort of faux Familiar. I’m not so much tracking the bear as I’m tracking the tangled magic it’s leaving in its wake.”

“I never asked, specifically, but I don’t believe either Nora or Charlie tracked that way.” Cas felt the usual melancholy when he thought of Nora. “Nora would fly overhead and look for areas of dead or sickly vegetation. You would have to ask Charlie but she likely does what you do, only on a more instinctual level.” 

“You’ve made a lot of progress with the resources you did have.” Dean squeezed his hand. “You, Gabe, Charlie and Nora are the reason none of the corrupted creatures we’ve come across have been people. “

“Not only the four of us. Jody’s strict rotations and rules have kept the residents of Willow River safe.” Cas finished his pie and brushed his hand off on his trousers. He was amused to imagine the reaction of his elder brothers if they caught a glimpse of him now. Heathen. Dean held a handful of berries in front of his face next, which he accepted with a murmured thank you. 

Once they were both done eating, Cas let go of Dean’s hand and made his way to the stream to wash up and refresh himself. He was well and truly into his second wind, and felt confident it would last until evening. When he looked around he saw that Dean’s clothes were once again folded at the aspen’s roots. He packed those away, as well as the now empty oilcloth, and loosened Smoky’s ties. He mounted up and followed after the threads of his Familiar bond. 

Now that he was more awake and aware, he could see the tangled threads of the magic that Dean was following. It was barely a hint of corruption, and easy enough to cleanse as they traveled along. 

The land slowly morphed from tree-spotted grasslands to forested hills. They were forced to abandon the stream as terrain became more difficult to navigate. As the sun descended towards the horizon, Dean angled them back towards the stream and possible campsites. 

Instead of the stream, they ended up finding a river that the stream must have been feeding into. They made camp on a knoll overlooking the water, still not having made contact with the bear or any other corrupted creature. Barring the occasional bird, the trip had been ominously free of wildlife. 

It was a good thing that Ellen packed a fair bit of food for them. Dean could always hunt, but it would slow them down in their pursuit of the bear. On top of that, they’d have to make a fire and cook the kill. Dean could eat it raw, but Cas wouldn’t resort to that unless he truly had no other option.

Perhaps he could sear it using magic. Now that he thought of it, that would likely not be too difficult. He’d just have to alter a fire spell slightly… He blinked and shook his head, focusing again.

Dean waited until Cas was done drawing on him to set wards around the camp before shifting back to his human form to share in the evening meal. “Don’t worry about any of the cleanup, I’ve got it, Cas. As soon as you’re done eating, go ahead and get some sleep. We’ll come up with a plan in the morning.” 

“I would argue with you, but I am lacking the energy to do so.” Cas eyed the bedroll that Dean had set up while he was stripping Smoky of his saddle and getting the horse ready to bed down for the night. 

“Get some sleep,” Dean reiterated. 

Cas did feel better when he woke in the morning. He sat up and squinted at the sun. It had already cleared the trees, so well past dawn, then. Next he glanced around for Dean and spotted the cat sprawled out in the sunshine. His ear flicked back, indicating he was aware that Cas was awake, but otherwise did not move. 

“I had thought you would want to get moving as quickly as possible,” Cas commented as he got himself all the way to his feet and then stretched out every sore muscle. He had been too worn down to bother casting an extra cushion of air and regretted that after the fact. 

_ *It’s more important for you to be as recovered as you can be,* _ Dean answered. _ *Besides, we’ve gotten too close to a larger patch of corruption. I can’t sense the individual snags the bear has been creating anymore, only a giant tangle farther southwest.* _

Cas struggled with the idea of continuing on or returning for Gabe and Charlie. They have made it this far, what would be the harm in scouting this area they hadn’t explored before? Now that he felt more awake and aware, his curiosity was engaged. 

“Breakfast, and then we’ll check out this tangle of yours.”

-oOo-

Traveling was slower than the day before as they wound around trees and up and down hills. By evening, they still had not reached the corrupted land that Dean could still sense to the southwest. The longer they went without reaching the source, the more concerned Dean grew. How strong was it, that he could sense it so far away? 

Midday, three days later, the trees thinned out ahead of them. Dean stopped right at the tree line, his tail slashed back and forth in agitation. Some twenty feet back, Smoky planted his hooves and refused to move forward another step. 

“Dean?”

_ *You’ll want to see this, Cas.* _ As Smoky was already in eye-rolling distress, Dean didn’t bother to keep his distance. He turned around and walked up to the two of them, shifted and pulled his clothes out of the saddle bag. 

Cas dismounted and hobbled the roan, then walked out to the tree line as Dean sat down to pull on his boots. 

The land spread out before him was a vast tableau of rippled and bubbled rock bleached a stark bone white. The only color came in the occasional swirl of acidic yellow or green. No vegetation, not even the smallest and hardiest plant, was able to take root and grow here. It had been a part of the forest at one point. Long-dead skeletal trees rose from the ground at odd intervals, blackened stumps missing most of their limbs. It wasn’t so different from last time they had looked across the Great River, only, somehow, the bleached white was even more disturbing than the black had been. 

“It would be oddly beautiful,” Dean commented as he came to stand shoulder to shoulder with Cas, “if my skin weren’t twitching with how wrong it all feels.”

“I am getting a bare echo of what you can feel and I question how you can stand here so calmly.” Cas took a step out onto the rock. A puff of steam hissed out of the ground, accompanied by the acrid stench of sulfur. 

“Well that isn’t at all ominous.” Dean followed. “It _ was _ overwhelming. I can handle it, just, if I stay out of cat form. I have more motivation to now.” He pointed out in front of them. “I want to go look there. I can’t exactly track anything, it’s too much of a jumbled mess of wrong. There is something extra wrong over there, though.” 

“Naturally, you want to charge right into the extra wrong,” Cas stared at Dean with raised eyebrows. 

“Well, yeah. Don’t you?” Dean quirked his eyebrow right back. 

“Surprisingly, yes.” Cas strode off in the direction Dean had been pointing. 

The general consensus around Willow River was that Gabe was spontaneous and Castiel was the cautious one. He was quieter than his brother, less likely to jump into conversation. Less ostentatious by far. And yet, it had been Castiel’s decision to move out to the frontier. He was the one that waded straight into a fight if he felt the cause just. Reserve and caution were not synonymous. 

From time to time, Dean would tap Cas’ shoulder to correct his course, but otherwise was content to follow behind. The landscape did not stay flat for long. They were not winding their way through hills this time, but rather bare rock that looked as though sections of earth had been pushed up from below in random patterns. There were no soft curves, only hard edges barely eroded by time. If they weren't careful the rocks were sharp enough to slice through their trousers. Thankfully the soles of their boots were thick enough and sturdy enough to resist damage.

The sun was high overhead, beating down on them mercilessly. Cas gravitated towards a rock formation three times his height to take advantage of the small sliver of shade it provided. He placed his hand on the warm rock and paused. The familiar pull of warding magic sang through his veins. He looked up, squinting at the rock face. 

“What is it?” Dean asked, looking up as well. 

Cas pointed. There, just above their heads, a sigil was carved into the rock face. They continued to follow along the wall to discover more sigils spaced evenly and precisely. When they turned a corner, they found a large cave. The sigils here were more concentrated, even carved into the ground in a semi-circle in front of the entrance. 

“I know the basic sigils,” Dean said as he crouched down to study one of the patterns more closely. “A lot of these are foreign to me, though.” 

“Many of these I haven’t seen outside of the Angelus library,” Cas agreed. “They are old, and not much used in modern times. Taken together, the purpose is… containment?” 

“Containing what?” Dean reached out, his finger hovering over a sigil that looked vaguely paw shaped. “I feel like I should know this one. My mother showed me something similar when I was a child, it has to do with Familiars.” He brushed his finger lightly over the edges of the shape. 

“Dean, no!” Cas thrust his arm forward to grab at Dean, but he was too late.

The sigil flared with the same sickly yellow color swirled throughout the white rock of the corrupted land as its pattern was disrupted. The ground trembled beneath their feet. 

Cas hurried to the Familiar’s side, struggling to keep upright. Even in human form, Dean’s cat nature allowed him to be more sure on his feet. He stood up easily, keeping his balance against the rolling ground. Cas reached for their bond, hoping to use some of that steadiness to his benefit. Dean opened himself up to that deeper connection, and held his hand out to grasp Cas’. Because of the physical contact as well as the deeper bond, Cas clearly felt it when a rush of power was pulled right through Dean. 

The ground tremors calmed beneath their feet, localizing instead to the back of the cave. Dean’s feet slid towards the back of the cave as well. Cas wrapped his arms around him and held him close. The charm that always hung around Dean’s neck, no matter his form, glowed a bright white. 

A grinding noise reverberated through the area. The columns at the back of the cave sank down into the ground amidst great clouds of dust and a painful groaning sound. When the dust cleared, an open archway stood at the back of the cave.

In the archway stood a woman dressed in deep black flowing robes, the kind worn by Witches hundreds of years ago. Her skin was pale but clear, her dark eyes piercing. Dark auburn hair cascaded over her shoulders. Her skirts moved faintly. She turned slightly until she was facing them.

Dean stumbled backwards as he was released from whatever pull was on him. Cas tightened his hold to keep the other man upright. Dean continued to lean against him, despite now having his feet well under himself. 

“What a pretty Familiar,” the woman purred. Her eyes were entirely focused on Dean. She ignored Castiel entirely. “It has been so long since I’ve felt the sweet breeze of fresh air. Free me, and we could do such wonderful things together.” Her voice was low, melodious, but with jangling overtones of harmonics just out of tune. 

“I don’t know who you think you are, lady, but no,” Dean replied. 

“Free me!” 

Cas had the very strong suspicion that this was the ‘extra wrong’ the two of them had been pursuing. This woman, whomever she was, trapped by Witches of the distant past. He stepped backwards slowly, pulling Dean along with him. Slowly enough, he hoped, that she would not notice and make another attempt to pull power from Dean. Cas suspected that Dean’s protective charm was the only thing that had prevented her from taking over the Familiar entirely. 

He could worry about her surprising strength once they were away from here. The sheer power it took to override his blood bond with Dean was terrifying -- but he couldn't afford to devote any energy to worrying about that now. Time enough for that later, when they were safely away. He continued pulling Dean, angling to break her line of sight. They were two steps from being out of sight when a loud roar to his immediate right startled him. 

Cas released Dean, and turned just enough to see an enormous bear behind a claw heading straight for him. Dammit! How could he have forgotten about the bear they had followed here? 

“Cas!” 

He didn’t jump back quickly enough. He twisted just enough that claws raked across his ribs rather than gouging into the soft flesh of his stomach. A second swipe as he fell backwards caught his thigh. Pain seared through him. He fought to stay aware, but the charm meant to stave off corruption relied on his own life force. Dean’s answering roar was the last thing he heard before he dropped into unconsciousness. 

-oOo-

Dean screamed in rage as Cas fell to the claws of the bear, crimson blood blossoming where those sharp claws sliced into his WItch's skin. He Shifted and sank his own claws into the hide of the creature without a single thought beyond protecting Cas. These past weeks on the frontier honed Dean’s instincts. He kept above and behind the bear, away from its claws and teeth. He sank his own claws into the flesh beneath him, giving him purchase as the bear raged and made swipes at him. He clamped his jaw just below the base of the bear’s skull. There was too much muscle there to get a good angle on the spine, though Dean tried.

Their fight brought them back to the entrance of the cave, snarling and rolling, both trying to get and keep control over the other. The woman in black shouted, her own rage mere background noise. Dean shifted to avoid another swipe of the bear's giant paw, twisting his muscles. He ignored the wrenching pull; there was no time to indulge strained muscles. The bear roared. Dean's ears were ringing, but under the ringing was a low, tortured, grinding sound. That... something was wrong about that. He looked up overhead just in time to see the rock of the cave's roof cracking, splitting, a fissure streaking through the stone like a bolt of lightning across the summer sky.

Fuck! He leapt off of the bear and sprang backwards, away from the cave, just as the rock crumbled and collapsed. The bear wasn't so fortunate. It roared in agony as it was crushed beneath the rocks, the sound echoing back and forth in the cave before it abruptly silenced. When the dust settled he could see that the cave was mostly blocked, now. He could still see the woman through gaps, her arm raised, fingers clenched in a fist that sparked.

“No one gets to have you but me,” she cried out furiously, locking his gaze with her.

He shook his head. "No. No." He took one step back and shifted mid-leap back towards Cas. She screamed curses at him in the background, but he ignored her. 

The Witch was still unconscious and bled sluggishly. “Cas. Cas, come on, buddy. Stay with me.” He tore the remains of Cas’ shirt and used it as a makeshift bandage around his thigh, and then used his own shirt, already shredded from the hasty shift, to wrap up his ribs. He pulled on what was left of his trousers, and his boots, then picked Cas up. He winced as his strained muscles complained.

“You got to stay with me, okay? Come on, Cas.” This wasn’t going to be pleasant, but he wasn’t about to leave his Witch out here, not when this was his fault. He kept to a steady pace, retracing their path in. 

Why wasn't Cas awake yet? He should be awake by now. Maybe it was too much, too soon. He'd nearly exhausted his magical reserves in healing Bobby, and then pursued Dean long before he'd replenished himself. Dean swallowed hard against a surge of guilt. He should have stayed back in Willow River, rather than storming off after the bear. He should have realized Cas would never let him go alone. This was all his fault. If Cas didn't wake up soon... or ever?

No. He wouldn't let himself think that way. There. They'd left Smoky and the supplies just over that ridge. Once he got to their packs he could tend Cas' wounds better, make him comfortable, brew one of those teas and force Cas to drink it. All he had to do was make it a little farther. With a burst of energy, he made it that last distance to where they had left Smoky and their supplies. 

The clearing was empty. “No. No, no, no, no, no.” Dean carefully set Cas down and took a look around. The horse was long gone, the broken hobble and a few scattered supplies the only evidence this was the correct spot. He must have gotten spooked by something and took off. He gripped his hair and let out one more shouted “No!” 

All right. Enough. Cas needed him, no time to waste in self-recrimination. Hopefully Smoky would make it safely back to Willow River, but there was nothing Dean could do about that right now. He took the time to check Cas over more thoroughly. He was breathing easily enough, and his side didn’t feel over warm. That had to be a good sign, right? Maybe it was just too soon for any sort of infection to hit. Still, a Witch with healing abilities could ward off infections, even cure them. He just had to recover enough to work those spells.

They needed somewhere safe to hole up until that happened. If he remembered correctly, there were a few more caves nestled along the river banks. Dean picked Cas up again, bracing him in the most secure and balanced hold he could manage, and headed off towards the river. He was grateful for his cat's balance as he made his way along, avoiding bad footing and recovering quickly when he made any missteps.

By the time Dean found a cave large enough to shelter them, the sunlight was nearly gone. He left Cas in the cave and went about gathering enough brush and grasses to make a comfortable bed. It was damp, but better than the hard-packed ground. Next, he took the remains of Cas’ shirt and rinsed it thoroughly in the river so he could use that to carefully clean the slashes across Cas’ ribs. 

“You’re starting to worry me, man. I would really appreciate it if you woke up right about now.” Dean finished cleaning the wounds and placed his palm on the center of Cas’ chest. “I’ve been trying hard not to notice, but you’re kind of beautiful, you know.” He huffed a laugh, his thumb lightly stroking warm skin. He found the cleanest parts of cloth to rewrap the bandage, then settled in to try and get a little rest. They needed food, but that could come later. He was exhausted.

-oOo-

Cas regained consciousness in slow increments. His temple throbbed with pain, making it difficult to evaluate himself. He shifted in an instinctive effort to relieve the pressure, only to have his side flare up with an even more agonizing pain. 

“Cas! Cas. Hey. Take it easy. I’ve got ya.” 

A cool cloth placed on his forehead, along with the soothing presence of his Familiar, eased the pain. His Familiar. “Dean!” 

His eyes shot open to find his field of vision taken up entirely by a pair of gold-flecked green eyes. “Dean.” His voice was hoarser, deeper than usual from disuse. He reached up, his fingers skimming the stubble along Dean’s jaw, finally burying his fingers in Dean’s hair. “You’re all right.” Touching Dean, knowing he was real, was well worth the burst of pain from reaching up.

“I’m all right.” Dean snorted. “I’m not the one that has been unconscious for near a full day.” Relief took over the worry in his expression. He tilted his head to press into Cas’ touch. 

It was only then that Cas realized how close they were to each other, and how few clothes they each wore. That knowledge became more acute as he struggled to sit up and Dean reached an arm around him to offer assistance. 

“Easy. Easy. You’re going to start bleeding again.” 

When Cas sat up, the cloth Dean had been using to cool his brow fell to his lap. It was a ragged bit of faded blue cloth with remnants of a familiar pattern of embroidery. A matching length of cloth was tied around his thigh, protecting what must be claw marks from the bear. “This explains what happened to my shirt. What happened to yours?”

“I didn’t exactly have time to strip carefully when I shifted to get that bear off of you, Cas.” Dean leaned away briefly, but was back before Cas could protest. “Drink up.” He held his canteen up and made sure Cas had a good grip of it before he continued talking. “You are wearing the remaining shreds around your ribs. You scared me, you know.” 

“I wasn’t too fond of the situation either,” Cas replied. He set the canteen down and took the opportunity to look around. Dean had found them a cave. He doubted he would be able to stand at full height, but there was enough space that he didn’t feel claustrophobic even with the two of them. He couldn’t see much out the entrance besides trees and brush, but the sound of rushing water made it obvious they weren’t far off from the river. The bluffs, then. Dean had somehow brought him so far as the bluffs and constructed a bed of grasses and foliage while he was passed out. The light was dim, but bright enough outside that he could see well enough. 

“Smoky?” Cas asked as he started to peel the makeshift bandage away from his ribs. 

Guilt and worry poured through the bond before Dean was able to clamp down on it. Cas looked up sharply, his own worry pushed through to the forefront. 

“Gone.” Dean cleared his throat. “Spooked by something. I’m sure he ran back to Willow River. With most of our supplies. I got a few things off the ground from where we left him. That canteen. Not much else. When you’re feeling well enough, we’re going to have to walk back. Nothing for it.” 

“You did the best that you could. More than expected.” Cas let go some control on his side of the bond so that Dean could share in the tinge of awe Cas felt as he realized just what it would have taken Dean to get him here to safety. He knew he succeeded when a flush spread across Dean’s cheeks, making his freckles more prominent.

Holding Dean’s gaze, Cas brushed his fingertips along the Familiar’s collar bone. He curled his hand around the charm still hanging from Dean’s neck. It was blackened around the edges, but still intact. “Remind me to thank your family for the love and care they put into your protections.” 

“Cas.” Dean cupped Cas’ cheek and brushed his thumb along his cheekbone. “Right now you need to put some love and care into yourself. I know you just woke up, but you have enough energy to heal yourself? I don’t think any of the corruption touched you, but I’d feel better if you looked yourself.” 

“I trust that you would be able to tell.” Cas let go the charm and instead placed his hand over Dean’s on his cheek. Even so, he closed his eyes and looked inward. As had become the usual of late, Dean’s energy was there to supplement his own, a cool, bright balm. 

His protective charms had done what they were meant to do. Not a trace of corruption from the bear’s claws clung to Cas’ skin. He pulled more energy from Dean, felt Dean open up to him fully and completely. 

“Clean,” Cas confirmed for Dean’s benefit. His eyes glowed a soft, pale blue as power coursed through him. His wounds lit up with the same glow before the flesh knitted back together leaving behind thin pink lines as the only evidence of the injury. 

Dean sagged against Cas as unspoken worry and tension bled out of him. He placed his palm against Cas’ ribs. 

He should be exhausted even after having been unconscious for however many hours. Instead, energy thrummed beneath Cas’ skin. He stared at the fan of Dean’s eyelashes against his cheek and was struck anew by how beautiful the Familiar was. Physically, yes, but in so many other ways as well. Fiercely loyal. Kind. Gruff to disguise the kindness. Quietly brilliant. He teased Cas but never made fun. 

It hit him, then, in perfect clarity what he had been avoiding fully acknowledging. He wanted Dean, in every way possible. Either one of them could have died. It was time to let go caution and reach for what he wanted.

“You should rest some more,” Dean suggested. He began to pull away. Cas gripped Dean’s hand and guided it to once more lay flat against his skin. Away was the last thing that Cas wanted. 

Dean froze. Cas watched with infinite patience as he attempted to come up with alternate explanations for the steady hum of want that Cas projected through their bond. Finally Dean dragged his gaze away from his hand curled around Cas’ ribs to meet the Witch’s gaze. 

“I don’t want to rest anymore,” Cas told him, voice low and husky with want. It was easy to be confident when he could feel Dean’s answering desire just under a thin veneer of uncertainty. 

“Is this about being happy to be alive?” Dean finally asked. 

“This is about being happy to be alive,” Cas agreed. He met Dean’s gaze steadily. “It is also about letting go of fear. Dean Winchester, you deserve to know how much you have come to mean to me. It is selfish to keep that from you on the chance I am not quite as important to you.” 

Finally, Cas sank back down to the makeshift bedding, never breaking eye contact. 

“I attacked a corrupted bear for you, Cas. Pretty sure that proves you’re important to me.” 

“You would have done the same for anyone else. That is part of who you are.” Cas arched an eyebrow, challenged Dean to do better.

“Yeah, okay. I can’t really argue with you about that.” Dean inhaled sharply. He let go his uncertainty on a shaky exhale. “How is this for something I wouldn’t do for anyone else?”

-oOo-

Dean lowered himself, slotting between Cas’ legs. Having Cas warm and alive under his fingertips was going a long way towards muting the memory of the Witch falling, bloody and unconscious. 

Losing Cas was infinitely more terrifying than having Cas. Here Cas was, challenging him as always, this time to show that he was ready for this bond between them to be a true partnership. 

He held Cas’ gaze as long as he could. His eyes drifted closed just before his lips brushed against Cas’ in the lightest of kisses. When no protest of pain or even discomfort came, Dean allowed his weight to settle entirely. Dean slid his hand up along Cas’ rib cage with the intent of following a path all the way up to his shoulder and then down to link their fingers together. 

That plan scattered to the winds when his thumb brushed across Cas’ nipple and the man arched up into his touch with a breathy moan. That was all the encouragement Dean needed to turn the light, searching kisses into sharp biting ones. 

Cas was no passive participant. With the first nip of Dean’s teeth against his lower lip, he brought his hands up to grip Dean’s hips and held him in place. 

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart,” Dean promised. He dragged his lips down along the column of Cas’ throat, pausing now and then for more small nips and kisses. Cas tilted his head back to allow full access. 

“No,” Cas growled, “you are not.” 

Dean sensed what Cas intended a moment before Cas tensed his muscles and rolled the two of them over. Dean relaxed into it, not fighting as Cas rearranged them until he was now above. It was Dean’s turn to arch into the touch as Cas let go his hips and deftly flicked open the buttons of Dean’s pants. 

Dean gripped the back of Cas’ neck and pulled him in for another open-mouthed kiss. They’d been so careful about touching each other to this point. Now there was no holding back. 

Verbal communication was no longer necessary. Each of them opened their bond to the other so fully that it was difficult to differentiate between the two. Dean traced a path down the length of Cas’ spine and felt a phantom touch along his own. Cas scratched his nails lightly down Dean’s thighs as he removed Dean’s pants entirely, and Dean knew that Cas felt it too. 

It led to the most intense experience of Dean’s life. He wasn’t entirely sure he didn’t pop a claw or two. If so, Cas had been polite enough not to mention it. 

-oOo-

Afterwards, they lay sprawled out next to each other, watching the sky darken out the cave entrance as storm clouds rolled in. 

“Look at that, Cas. The sex was so fantastic we caused a thunderstorm.” 

Cas rolled his eyes, but then blinked as a lightning strike lit up the sky in an unusual pattern of blue-green. 

“It seems unlikely that sex was the direct cause,” he finally answered. “Not entirely unrelated, though. Dean…”

“Yeah,” Dean replied. “We sort of accidentally, sort of on purpose full-bonded. The temporary bond was blood and incantation, right? There was a little bit of accidental blood this time, other sorts of fluid exchanges, and a whole lot of chanting.” 

Cas narrowed his eyes at him. “You needn’t sound so smug about it.” 

“Hey, I was doing just as much of the chanting as you were. This is what we both wanted, right? You aren’t upset?” 

Cas reached over to smooth the furrow of worry between Dean’s brows away. Dean pushed into the touch, much like the cat he was just below the surface. “I am not upset. Rather the opposite, actually.” He picked up Dean’s hand and brushed a kiss against his knuckles. “Especially as we somehow managed not to rip our pants to shreds. You may be able to shift and walk back to camp with your dignity intact. I need pants at a bare minimum to achieve the same.” 

“I don’t know, Cas. No one in Willow River would be thinking about your lack of dignity if you were to walk up to the gates in the nude.” Dean smirked as he pictured it. “You think they can see the light show?” 

Another streak of blue-green lightning flashed across the sky, followed by booming thunder. The sound of approaching rain joined the chorus. 

“We are talking about the lightning, now, and not my theoretical nudity?” Cas asked. “More than likely, yes. Correctly interpreting it? Not so much. We need to return.” 

“We do,” Dean agreed. “Not until morning, after the rain is gone.” 

“I suppose you are right.” Cas sighed and snuggled closer against Dean to take advantage of his body heat. “I expect fresh caught fish for breakfast. I’ve been injured, you know, and need to regain my strength.” 

“Whatever you say, sweetheart. All the fresh caught fish you could want.” Dean pushed a lock of hair away from Cas’ forehead and placed a kiss there. 

They drifted off to sleep watching the storm.


	10. Chapter 10

Just like when Cas first brought Dean to Willow River months ago, a streak of red approached at speed shortly after the walls of the stockade came into view. Home. Relief mingled with apprehension as they approached. Cas was definitely looking forward to the pleasures of his own bed — and perhaps more importantly, a thorough bath in steaming warm water, the heat soaking into his muscles. Perhaps Dean would allow him to use some of the fine milled soap he’d brought from New Avalon. That soap was so much less harsh. His skin actually still felt smooth rather than all tight and dried out.

Still, not everything about returning to Willow River promised to be welcoming. Cas shifted uncomfortably. 

Cas knew that Dean was worried over Gabe’s reaction. He could feel the low-level buzz of anxiety along the newly strengthened bond between them, a prickle that Dean couldn’t hide from him no matter how much he tried. Cas hated to admit it, but that worry was not without justification. Gabe’s temper could be formidable, and when he felt wronged, he wasn't particularly forgiving. It wasn’t a good sign that Gabe had not followed Charlie out the gate. 

“I will handle Gabriel, Dean. Let him rage against me.” Gabe wouldn't hurt Cas under any circumstances. He wasn't so sure that Dean would enjoy the same restraints, and if Gabe hurt Dean... Cas wasn't sure he'd be able to forgive his brother, no matter how much he loved him. 

“You’re really settling my worry over him blaming me for everything there, Cas.” Dean let go of Cas’ hand just in time to catch Charlie as she leapt up into his arms. She chirruped and whined in distress even as she nipped and licked at Dean’s face, her ears flattened to her head and her tail puffed out. 

“We’re fine, Little Fox. A little worse for wear, but we both came back in one piece.” Dean hugged her close and then handed her over to Cas. 

“How angry is Gabriel?” Cas asked as he stroked her ears just the way she liked, soothing. Her fur was soft against his bare chest, tickling slightly.

She gave him a flat look he had no trouble interpreting. 

“Yes, I imagined so.” Cas sighed. “I will handle my brother. It might be best for the both of you to stay away from the house until I have, however.” 

A crowd had gathered just inside the gates. Cas was certain everyone currently in residence had to be there. Charlie jumped down and raced away, ready to shift back to her human form.

“Cas! Dean! Oh my goodness gracious, we were all so _ worried _ about you!” Garth exclaimed, first in line to crush them in a surprisingly strong hug, considering how lean and gangly he was. “And look at you both, all… Bess, fetch a blanket? Or two?”

Cas reflexively hugged him back, spitting out a mouthful of dark hair. Garth handed him straight into Bess’ embrace, and from there he was passed around at a dizzying pace. He lost track of who was hugging him or clapping him on the shoulder with heartfelt words of welcome. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dean likewise being passed from person to person. Ellen hugged him first, then smacked him upside the head. Cas vaguely heard something about ‘damn fool, racing off alone like that. Don’t care if you’re a cougar, still a stupid move.’

Honestly, Cas didn’t disagree.

“Bobby?” Dean asked, his voice tentative, shaky.

Ellen ran her hand down his arm. “He’s getting better. Sleeping now, regaining his energy — but he’s been awake. Ornery old cuss when he’s awake, now.” A faint affectionate smile crossed her lips. “Which means he’s on the mend. At first he didn’t say anything, just passively sipped the broth I made from him. Now he’s swearing at it before he drinks it.”

Dean laughed in relief. “Glad to hear it. Can I go see him?”

“After you get yourself cleaned up. You’re a filthy mess. Both of you are.” She turned to fix Cas with a stern gaze as well. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Cas added his own agreement. “Gabe in our house?” He smiled thanks at Bess as she draped a blanket around his shoulders, providing some much-needed warmth and cover before giving the same to Dean.

Ellen nodded. “He is. No one’s quite dared approach him since Smoky wandered back without you.”

“Well then. I’ll… go talk to him.” Cas ran a hand through his hair before he caught himself. It wouldn’t do to openly show his nerves. The people of Willow River needed to believe that he knew what he was doing. “Ellen, we will need to have a meeting of everyone who’s here. Dean and I have information to share that is best done all at once. Please ask everyone to come to the Saloon in… one hour’s time.” He should be able to placate Gabe enough by then.

Ellen studied him for a moment, then nodded briskly. “We’ll be ready for you.”

Dean appeared at his side, reaching up to lightly clasp his shoulder. A thread of encouragement and support pulsed through their bond, accompanied by one of his beautiful smiles. “You got this,” he said softly. “If you need me, just call. I’ll be there faster than you can shake two sticks.”

Cas nodded, managed a weak smile in return. “Yes. I ‘got this’.” He tugged his blanket more securely around himself, then strode off towards the pink and white striped house at the end of the pathway.

Just as he stepped up onto the stoop, Cas sneezed as a pungent odor assailed his nostrils. Good thing Dean wasn’t with him. If it was strong enough to make _ him _ sneeze with his human senses, it could be enough to knock Dean back on his ass. Cas knocked at the door. “Gabriel? I know you’re there.”

The door opened on its own, a cloud of green-purple haze escaping into the fresh air. “What are you doing?”

“It’s tea, Castiel.” Gabe’s voice was lower than usual, with a dark edge to it that shivers running down Cas’ spine. 

“Are you actually _ drinking _ something that smells that noxious?” Cas stepped inside, giving his eyes a moment to adjust to the darker interior. Gabe had the curtains drawn. The fire in the hearth was banked down to embers. The cauldron hanging from the tripod was the source of the haze. Cas coughted.

Gabe poured a ladle of the liquid into his mug, then defiantly took a sip. His golden-green eyes sparked and snapped with pent-up energy. Even his hair wasn’t lying flat, with the occasional sharp zap flaring around his scalp. 

It wasn’t often that Gabe’s temper was so foul that it manifested as a miniature electrical storm. Cas mentally braced himself.

He deliberately pushed his hands into his pockets, reminding himself that most of Gabriel’s anger was born of fear. “I apologize, Gabe,” he said softly. “I know that my leaving when I did made you worry.”

“It was damned stupid!” Gabe snapped, the ends of his hair swirling in a frenzy. “You’d drained yourself past the point of caution, as you always do. You need to have a care for yourself, too. You use yourself up and you’re no good to anyone!”

“Dean—”

“Don’t get me started on his idiocy, either. You’re the one who’s always telling _ me _ not to go off half-cocked. Try telling me what you did wasn’t the same or worse than anything I’ve ever done. I dare you to try and justify yourself.”

Cas held his gaze for a long moment. “Dean needed me,” he said, simply. “He didn’t know he did. He thought he could go out for his vengeance by himself. But he needed me.”

“His taking off when he did was stupidity at its height.”

“I don’t disagree.”

Gabe narrowed his gaze. Cas agreeing with him made it impossible to argue, which in turn frustrated him — but at the same time, made him calm down. Slowly, Cas had to admit, but it did work. Eventually.

Gabe turned and threw the mug of tea into the back of the fireplace, where it shattered. The liquid immediately evaporated when it hit the embers.

Cas just waited.

The glow surrounding Gabriel dimmed. He took a deep shuddering breath. “You found him, then? Brought him back?”

Cas suppressed a sigh of relief. “Yes. Though in the end it’s more that he brought me back.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The tainted bear had left enough of a mark that it still stung, when he moved the wrong way. “We found something concerning. A cave, with sigils all around.”

“What sorts of sigils?”

“I can tell you now, but I would prefer to wait until Dean is here. He had a closer look at them. Also, I’ve called a meeting at the Saloon. This is something everyone needs to know.”

“Is there a threat associated with it?”

Cas nodded. “I believe so, yes. But hopefully we have a little time. Nothing cornered Dean and me while we were recovering from the encounter.”

Gabe looked at him sharply, then scanned him top to toe once more. “You’re damned lucky you’re more or less functional right now. All right. We’ll wait for Dean.” The sparks eased back, but Gabe’s regard focused in a different, more acute way. “Something else has changed, too.”

Cas looked up at his brother, flushed. “Yes. I… we’ll discuss that later. After we’re home again.”

“Yes. We will.”

Cas cleared his throat. “I’ll go get Dean.” He could reach out to him through their mental bond, but he preferred the idea of getting him in person. That would also give Gabe just a few more minutes to settle down, which could only be a good thing.

-oOo-

Dean was more than ready for a good bath, a hearty meal, and some sleep, but he knew that it was smart to give Cas time to calm down Gabe and then inform everyone what was going on before they truly rested. It was easier knowing how he would feel if Sammy had gone out and then his horse returned without him. So he headed over to the stable instead, as soon as the crowd welcoming them back dispersed. 

“Hey, boy,” Dean greeted Smoky. “You made it back after all. I’m happy to see you.” He grabbed a curry brush and stepped into the stall. The roan stomped his hoof in nerves, but settled down soon enough. He didn’t relax entirely, kept an ear rotated in Dean’s direction the entire time, but he stood still for Dean to brush him. 

“Next time we go out, we’ll take Red instead. Give you a break. A few extra apples to make up for whatever fright you suffered out there.” Dean didn’t see any scratches on him, at least. Not new ones. 

“It’s going to be some time before you go anywhere, Dean Winchester,” Charlie told him as she joined him at Smoky’s stall. She crossed her arms on the door and watched him work. 

“You might not want to hear this, Charlie,” he flicked his eyes in her direction, then went back to carefully brushing the dust out of the horse’s coat, “but I’m not actually sorry I went. I could have handled it better, no lie. Even so.” 

She reached over and dangled a fresh shirt over the stall door. “What happened to your clothes?” 

“I had to shift quickly, didn’t have time to make sure I didn’t bust right out of what I was wearing.” He paused long enough to accept the shirt and shrug it on with a small smile of thanks. “Would have lost the shirt anyhow. Bandages.” 

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “For you or for Cas?” 

“Cas.” He clenched his jaw. “We found the bear that got Rufus and Bobby. Well, the bear found us more like. It took a swipe or two at Cas.” 

She straightened up at that. “Dean!” 

“I know!” He hunched his shoulders. “Believe me, I wasn’t a fan of watching it happen. He’s fine, though. Now.” 

“The two of you killed a corrupted bear that got Rufus and Bobby?” 

“Not exactly. Listen, a lot happened out there, okay? That’s why Cas called the all-hands meeting.” 

“Well, that might take a while to happen.” Charlie arched an eyebrow. “Gabe is not happy right now. You might want to sleep in the barn.” 

“Yeah, no.” He glanced at Charlie. “That isn’t going to happen.” Now that he’d gotten to sleep next to Cas, he wasn’t going to give that up for anything. 

“Dean Winchester.” Charlie’s gaze sharpened as she caught the scent of a tale. She bounced on the balls of her feet. “What happened out there? Nevermind, for now, about that bear and whatever else happened. Did you and Cas…?” 

He ducked his head and blushed. 

“You did! Go Cas.” 

“Hey.” Dean glared at her, even if he didn’t really mean it. “What about me?” 

“Oh, come on. Of the two of you, Cas is far more deserving of congratulations on this.” Charlie wasn’t able to contain her energy anymore. She joined Dean in the stall to start combing Smoky’s mane. 

“I take offense to that. Anyone would be lucky to have Cas’ regard.” 

“I am not going to argue with you on that. I’m just saying…” 

“What are the two of you talking about?” Cas himself asked, stepping up to the now open stall door. 

Dean stepped up and cupped the nape of his neck. “Hey. Didn’t expect to see you so soon. Everything okay?” 

“It will be.” Cas sank into Dean’s hold. “I am simply tired. Gabriel is slightly appeased, but he’s going to be snappish for some time. He doesn’t get over things quickly or easily. I told him about the sigils; he wants to know more. Come back, get your proper bath and dress in proper clothes and then we can give him a preview before the meeting.” 

“Dean,” Charlie grabbed his attention. “Go back to the house. Cas is right. I’ll finish up here then join you at home.” 

“Thanks, Charlie.” Dean gave Cas a moment to lean in and give a pleased greeting to Smokey, before he guided Cas out of the stables and back towards the Peppermint House. “You had your own bath yet? You going to come join me, scrub my back maybe?” 

“Dean.” Cas looked at him fondly. “We will take turns. There is not near enough room for the both of us.” 

“Hey, come on. Where is your imagination? I bet we could do it. We’ll save that for later, though.” 

The other residents were giving them space, so they made it to the house without getting interrupted. Dean took a deep breath before following Cas through the door. His nostrils flared at the lingering scent of something distinctly unpleasant. “What the hell is that?” he whispered to Cas.

“Gabriel’s tea,” Cas whispered back.

Gabe himself was sitting at the table, a mug cupped between his hands. For a short man with a terrible taste in clothes, he was incredibly intimidating there. The set of his jaw was firm, his normally sparkling whiskey-brown eyes were hard as flint. His shoulders were pulled back, tension keeping them high.

This was supposed to be a slightly appeased Gabriel? Dean was suddenly intensely grateful he hadn’t come straight here with Cas.

Dean flashed him a smile, stepping out from behind Cas’ shoulder. “Hey, Gabe. Good to see you.”

Gabriel was clearly not amused. “You’re lucky you’re a strong Familiar, you realize this, right? You could have easily been killed, haring off after a corrupted _ bear _. Do you not remember what happened with the rabbit? How the fuck did you think you were going to be successful against a bear?”

Dean swallowed, ducked his head.

Okay, maybe he deserved that. 

“Gabe,” Cas said, his voice deep and firm. “Allow Dean the courtesy of bathing before this discussion. He is not a child to be chastised by you.”

“And he can speak for himself,” Dean pointed out. “Yeah. I’ll admit that wasn’t necessarily my smartest move. But… I really would like to clean up before we talk.”

Gabe growled under his breath, but nodded. “Fine. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

-oOo-

Dean felt far more human after cleaning up. He pulled on a clean shirt and trousers, turned to see Cas watching him. He flashed him a weak grin. “Like what you see?”

“Of course, Dean,” Cas replied, a new softness around his eyes. Dean wistfully thought he would far prefer to just stay up here with Cas, explore their new bond in the comfort of Cas’ room rather than a hard cave floor, but duty called. 

“You really think this is going to go okay?”

Cas nodded. “Yes. Gabriel gets angry when he is worried, but now that he knows the two of us are both hale and healthy, he will gradually relax. Our news will give him a new focus, as well.”

“Huh. That’s a point, I guess.”

“Come. I smell a roast. If you are as hungry as I am, a meal is most welcome.”

“Yeah. But first…” Dean crossed the short distance between them, cupped the back of Cas’ head, and leaned in for a gentle kiss. “Had to do that.”

The corner of Cas’ mouth twitched up in a smile. “Feel free to do so whenever the need strikes you.” He let his hand slide down the length of Dean’s arm until he reached his hand, and tangled their fingers together briefly before turning to return downstairs.

Gabriel had moved to sit at the table, the roast on a platter in the middle. He sliced off generous servings and loaded them onto the plates as the others took their seats.

“Thank you,” Cas said. Dean decided to let Cas handle the discussion as much as possible. Besides, the venison roast tasted amazing enough that he struggled to remember his table manners. 

Charlie was the first one to break the silence. “Well? What did you find?” Her gaze bounced between Cas and Dean. 

“We aren’t entirely positive, of course,” Cas started, “but we may have found the source of corruption.” 

There was a clatter of silverware. Dean looked up to see Charlie sheepishly picking her knife back up. She cleared her throat. “That’s big news, though. Huge. What was it?” she asked. 

“We found a section of corruption that is much worse than we’ve seen before,” Cas continued. “The ground bleached white instead of stained black. If you were to see it, you would know what I mean.” He took a deep breath and then detailed the story of trailing the bear deeper and deeper, the sigils, the prison, the lady in black. 

“She was a Witch, there is no doubt. Age indeterminate, but centuries going by her manner of dress.” Cas took a bite of his dinner. 

“The sigils, too,” Dean added. “They were older versions of what we’re used to.” 

“Older versions how?” Gabe asked. “You’re certain?”

Dean nodded. “Yes. My brother, Sam? He’s a scholar, with a particular interest in sigils. Every time he learned something new he’d tell me all about it, whether I wanted him to or not. The sigils had the dots and slashes that were common about three hundred years ago. In the centuries since people figured out that those elements didn’t really add anything to the sigils, so they were dropped in favor of paying more attention to the width and relative length of the lines.”

Gabe arched a brow, clearly surprised by the depth of Dean’s knowledge, but he didn’t argue that point. “Old sigils don’t prove a thing about this Witch being the source of the corruption. It’s a theory only.” 

“Of course it is,” Cas agreed. “It’s the best theory we’ve yet been able to develop, however.” He looked towards the window, judging the time by the angle of the light. “Shall we adjourn to the Saloon? Everyone should be gathering there by now.”

-oOo-

By the time the four of them entered the Saloon, most of the rest of the residents of Willow River had already gathered. 

“Do you want to explain what the hell is going on?” Jody asked, before the four of them had a chance to sit down. 

Ellen slammed a whiskey down in front of Dean, most of the contents sloshing over the side of the glass. “What hornets nest did you boys stir up without telling the rest of us?” 

“If you think about it, this could be a good thing,” Dean started. 

“Start from the beginning,” Ellen interrupted. 

Cas took a breath and squared his shoulders. He’d never truly enjoyed being the center of attention, but there was no help for it tonight. He and Dean were the ones with the information, and Dean didn’t have a long enough history with the community to command the same authority that Cas and Gabe did. He’d quickly gained respect, but there was a difference.

Gabe continued into the open room, finding a seat near the front and sitting down. Charlie sat beside him, close enough that their legs touched.

Cas suppressed a groan. By sitting right away, Gabe was clearly leaving the floor to Cas, and any hope he had that his brother would lead this discussion vanished.

Very well then. Cas stepped forward towards the bar, seating himself on a high barstool and facing the others. Dean followed him, then hopped up to sit on the bar counter, positioning himself slightly behind his Witch. Cas nodded to him, grateful for the support.

He faced everyone, taking a moment to gauge the mood. Everyone’s attention was locked on them. Some were curious, some apprehensive, and some irritable. Cas nodded, then began once again going over the events chasing after what got Rufus and Bobby up to returning back to Willow River. He strategically left out any details of what happened between Dean and himself in the cave. That was personal, and not relevant to the matter at hand. 

“Thought you were smarter than that, boy,” Bobby said from his seat at the head of the table. “Chasing off after something dangerous like that? Pure stupidity.” The man was wan and hunched a bit as though sitting upright was too much a challenge. He was, however, gloriously alive. 

“No sir, can’t agree with that,” Dean replied. His eyes were bright with unshed tears, but he chose not to hide them. “Family comes first, always.” Cas gave him a slight nod of support.

“You don’t believe she was completely released?” Jody asked, focused as always on what this meant for the scouts and their patrols.

Dean shook his head. “No. The one sigil was weakened when I broke it, but not completely erased and there were many others. They still hold power. She’s still tethered to the site, at least for now. I don’t know if they’ll continue to hold her, or if they’ll weaken and free her.”

“Do you think it’s safe to send scouts?”

“No,” Cas answered with conviction. “Absolutely not.”

Gabe stroked his chin thoughtfully. “We’re going to need more information, in any event. And we’ll need to monitor what’s going on.”

“We can do that by setting additional wards at a safe distance. I don’t want anyone going out of sight of the enclosure without either of us accompanying them.”

“Or me or Charlie,” Dean added.

Cas turned. “No. She specifically was interested in you. You in particular, you and Charlie, are at risk. You need to stay close to us at all times, within communication distance via our bonds.”

“But Cas…”

Cas fixed him with his most determined gaze. He would not, could not, risk Dean’s health, or Charlie’s. He’d already suffered the loss of one Familiar. Losing Nora had been difficult.

Losing Dean would utterly destroy him.

Donna set a plate of cookies down in front of Bobby as she circled around past him, breaking the tension in the room. She followed that up with a kiss to his whiskered cheek, then found her own seat next to Jody. “The question now is, what do we do about it? From what you said, sounds like this lady isn’t about to give up on getting her hands on Dean.” 

“So hand him over then,” Walt muttered. 

Even Roy shrank away from the thunderous expression Cas pointed in Walt’s direction. 

“Oh, absolutely,” Gabe agreed easily, entirely ignoring the aura of barely leashed lightning that had settled over the room. “A Witch that is strong enough to survive centuries of imprisonment, one that required an elaborate magical prison to keep her contained, who corrupts everything she touches, and voiced a desire to ‘reclaim’ these lands. Let’s gift her with a powerful Familiar. She’s bound to do nothing more than invite us all over for tea, once she gets what she wants.” 

“Now Castiel,” Garth soothed. “Put away the lightning and eat a cookie. No one is going to give Dean to the bad lady.” 

“Yeah, Cas. Eat a cookie.” Dean hopped down from the bar and reached across to accept one of the cookies that Garth had picked up off of Bobby’s plate. He held it up in front of Cas’ face until the Witch finally focused on him instead of Walt. He softened his voice. “No one is going to give me to the bad lady.” 

“What are we going to do, then?” Maggie asked. 

“We shore up our defenses,” Ellen answered. “We pull our patrols back closer to here, not go so far ranging. We also need to send someone off to Rockville with a warning not to send any more messengers by themselves. It’s not safe.” 

“We can’t lose communication entirely,” Dean protested. “I’ve written back home with information on what has been happening here, and what comes back might be useful.” 

“Gabe and I will take over the trips to Rockville,” Charlie offered. “We can protect ourselves. Cas and Dean are better staying here, continuing with their own patrols.” 

“Strap on your guns, boys and girls,” Gabe said. He slapped the table. “It’s about to get a whole lot worse before it ever gets better. Now hand me a cookie.” 

-oOo- 

When the meeting devolved into repetitions of previous arguments with nothing new being added, Dean slipped out of the saloon and headed home, stepping into his room and closing the door behind himself. He opened the shutter of the witchlight lantern Cas had given him, bathing the room in a soft light. 

He pulled his traveling writing desk out from under his bed and began sketching every sigil he could remember from the Witch’s prison. He took special care with the one that he had scuffed that subsequently released her. Even though he knew that the sigils by themselves held no power without the accompanying spellwork by a Witch, he couldn’t help but feel on edge as he inked them.

A knock sounded on the door, followed by Cas coming through. Dean looked up to offer a small smile. “Hey, Cas. Sorry for taking off, but I didn’t think there was anything else I could add. Everything okay over there? I didn’t hear any explosions.” 

“Nor would we; we would never enact violence upon each other.” He moved closer to sit next to Dean on the bed. “What are you working on?” 

“I’m writing to Sam. I’m going to send him a copy of the sigils we found, see what he can make of them.” Dean shuffled some papers and handed the sketches over for Cas to look at. 

“Dean. These are impressive. You memorized the designs?” 

“I’ve got a good eye for it.” Dean shrugged. 

“It seems you do,” Cas agreed. He handed the pages back to Dean and cleared his throat. “When you are done writing to Sam, would you like to come join me upstairs?”

The quill skittered across the page, leaving an uneven line of ink. Sam would never find out why. “Cas. Are you inviting me to your bed?” 

“Yes. Well. Perhaps I am.” For a moment, Cas avoided meeting his eyes, but then he turned his head and Dean was pinned in place by a steady blue gaze. 

“You, um. You recall that I have seen your room? Your bed is tiny, we would never fit.” 

“That does not sound like a no,” Cas pointed out. “It would be a challenge. I thought you enjoyed challenges.” 

That made Dean smirk. “Or you could stay down here, with me. Until we can get this bed moved upstairs.” It was just enough bigger that there was at least a chance neither of them would end up on the floor come morning. Then there was the benefit of being farther away from Gabe and Charlie. Cas could use his magic to muffle any sounds coming from their bed, but Dean still preferred the idea of being farther away from their housemates.

Cas glanced down to assess the bed. “Yes, well. That is an excellent idea. I will go get ready for sleep while you finish your letter to your brother, shall I?” 

“This is going to take me longer than it’s going to take you to get ready, but yes.” Dean leaned in to steal a kiss. “I want to be thorough.” 

“Then I will bring my own travel desk down and copy these drawings for our library.” He brushed Dean’s hair back from his forehead and leaned in for one more small kiss. “I will be back.” 

They stayed up for much longer than they should, but eventually all writing supplies were safely stored away under the bed and the two of them curled up next to each other to get some sleep. It had only been a few days, but already the thought of sleeping alone was an unwelcome one when they could have this instead. 


	11. Chapter 11

Dean stirred, slowly waking up, feeling more well-rested than he had in… well, in recent memory. His cheek was pressed against Cas’ shoulder. He turned his head slightly to press a soft kiss against the warm skin, smiling to himself at the tiny pulse of contentment flowing back through the bond. “I could get used to this,” he murmured, barely audible.

“I should hope so,” Cas replied. Dean could feel the vibration of his voice against his lips. He smiled again, snaking his hand around his mate’s waist, scratching lightly at the hair just below his navel. Cas’ sleep pants rode low on his hips. Dean slid his hand a little lower to play with the ties at his waistband.

Cas placed his hand over Dean’s. At first Dean thought he was going to push his hand away, but then he laced their fingers together and squeezed. 

Dean chuckled, raised himself up on one arm to lean over Cas’ shoulder and drop a kiss behind his ear. Cas turned enough to capture his lips. The kiss started out soft and sleepy, but didn’t take long to go deeper. Damn, but this was so good. His Witch — _ His _ Witch — was pure enchantment. He was getting as sappy as Sam inside his own mind, and he didn’t even care. Having Cas was everything.

Edging his hand lower, Dean’s fingertips just brushed against wiry curls when pounding at the door made him jump. “Fuck!” he exclaimed, jumping back.

“Rise and shine, boys!” Gabe called out in a sing-song voice. “Breakfast’s on the table, get it while it’s hot!”

Cas groaned, rolling over to bury his face in his pillow. “Go away, Gabriel,” he grumbled.

“No can do, Cassie. You’re still recovering.”

“No, I’m not. I’m perfectly fine.”

“I’m making baking powder biscuits.”

“Thought you said you didn’t cook,” Dean called out.

“Well, me, Charlie, same thing.”

Cas flopped over onto his back, lifting his hand to curl around the nape of Dean’s neck. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, softly enough that Gabe shouldn’t be able to hear. “He’s… insistent.”

Dean leaned in for another kiss, regretful this time. Like it or not, the mood had been ruined. “Been here long enough to figure that one out, sweetheart.” He sat up, careful not to fall off the edge of the bed. “But here’s an idea — we build a house of our own. Just the two of us.”

Cas smiled at that. “An excellent idea. When there’s time.”

Dean made it out the door first. Gabe looked him over, then turned back to his breakfast.

“Morning!” Charlie greeted him, bright as always. “You look like you slept well.” Her eyes twinkled mischievously.

“Mm,” Dean answered, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of anything more than that, but in the face of her relentless cheerfulness, he couldn’t help but smile and shrug one shoulder.

She laughed and hugged him, pressing a kiss against his cheek. “Happy for you,” she murmured. “So happy.”

The door to the lean-to bedroom opened again, and Cas emerged. His hair was all mussed, little improved by the hand he ran through it to try and get it in some semblance of order. Dean smiled.

Cas tried to glare, but couldn’t quite keep the corner of his mouth from twitching in a smile.

-oOo-

The summer sun was relentless. Dean ripped another weed out of the cornfield then sat back on his heels and wiped his brow. He needed to be out of the house right now. Watching Gabe fuss over Cas, acting more like brothers than they had since he’s been here, it made the homesickness hit particularly hard. 

They didn’t always need to go to Rockville to get their correspondence; sometimes the town sent someone out with mail and news. It was far too soon to hear back from Sam about those sigils but that didn’t mean he might not get a different letter from any member of his family. Even Jess sent him a few pages now and then, though hers were often sketches rather than letters. He particularly liked the one she sent him of Sam sprawled out asleep in the library. 

High summer, the trips were more frequent now. Willow River was expecting a visit any day. Spending time in the gardens gave Dean the benefit of being near should they arrive, leaving Gabe and Cas to their quality time, and getting on Ellen’s good side. Weeding was an unpopular task, and always needed. 

“Rider approaching!” 

Dean sprang to his feet and headed over to the base of the lookout tower. “Rockville courier?” Dean asked Pamela. She was one of their best shots, so got more time up in the tower than she would strictly prefer.

“Sure looks it, sweetie,” she answered, resting her arms on the railing and leaning over to look down at him. “You waiting on anything in particular? That why you’re out here rather than all cuddled up with your Witch?” 

“No. I mean… I don’t know what you mean.” No one flustered him quite like Pamela did. He didn’t even know why, it’s not like she didn’t say some of the exact same things Gabe said trying to get a rise out of him. 

She winked at him. “Right. Come on up here, then, and keep me company until our courier gets here?” 

Dean only hesitated a moment before climbing up the ladder and joining her on the platform. “Only one rider? I thought our last message out strongly recommended additional men make the trip from here on out.” 

He squinted as he watched the horse and rider approach. Something wasn’t right. The rider wasn’t reacting at all to catching sight of the stockade. Usually there was an increase in pace, a wave, something. Some reaction that the end goal was in sight. Dean opened himself up a little more to the flow of magic. 

“Go get Cas.” 

Pamela was an experienced scout. She knew better than to take extra time to question Dean, not when he snapped instantly on alert the way that he had. She dropped down off of the lookout tower and made a run for it towards the Peppermint house. 

Dean picked up the rifle Pamela had left resting against the railing and sighted through it. He didn’t have any intention of shooting, but he did want to be prepared. 

By the time Cas made it up to join him on the tower, the rider was close enough it was clear what was wrong with him even to the naked eye. Black veins crawled up his neck, across his cheeks, up into his hairline. 

“He is too far gone to be cured,” Cas said as he slumped just slightly against Dean, using his Familiar as support. Dean knew how much Cas hated not being able to save someone. He clasped Cas’ shoulder in silent support. 

“Surrender the Familiar!” An unnaturally loud and distinctly feminine voice boomed from the rider. “This is your one warning.” 

“Who are you to demand anything of me?” Dean shouted back. Others residents started to gather near the gate. 

The soulless eyes of the rider focused on Dean. “Familiar. I am your Witch. You may call me Amara. Do you not wish to serve a Witch worthy of you? You and I, we could reclaim these lands together.” 

“Yeah, that might have worked better if you hadn’t opened with a threat, lady.” 

Cas tensed beside him. “He already has a Witch.” 

The rifle was ripped out of Dean’s hand, followed shortly after by the sharp retort of it being fired. The rider dropped off of the back of the horse, which took advantage and started to run. 

Both Dean and Cas turned to look at Pamela, only now noticing that she had shouldered her way back up on to the now close quarters of the tower platform. “You boys were taking too long,” she told them. “Nothing to be gained by engaging in conversation.” 

“We were gaining information,” Cas started. 

“No you weren’t, you were approaching spitting mad and arguing.” Pamela set the rifle down again and crossed her arms. “Now one of you might want to go chase down that horse. It has our mail on it.” 

“I’ll do it,” Dean volunteered. “I’m fastest.” 

Gabe and Charlie were already striding towards the downed rider by the time Dean streaked past them. Cas chose to leave Gabe to take care of containing the corruption there, and followed Dean instead. Chances were strong the horse was also corrupted and would need to be taken care of. 

-oOo-

Donna braced her rifle against her shoulder, took aim, and pulled the trigger. A puff of feathers marked her success. The vulture plummeted to the ground. “These things have never harassed our livestock before.” 

“Maybe it thought Pigeon was an actual pigeon,” Gabe speculated. 

Dean rolled his eyes as he walked up to the dead bird. He rolled it over with his foot and noted the black veins branching out across the vulture’s red head. “Corrupted. We need to burn this.” He jumped back as it burst into flame practically under his feet. He turned to glare at Gabe. 

“What? I’m being efficient.” 

Jody stepped up to stand shoulder to shoulder with Donna. “The attacks are escalating. I don’t like that she’s sending birds at us now. Our walls aren’t going to keep birds out.” She shaded her eyes and scanned the skies. “What happens if she manages to control many of them at once, rather than the ones and twos that have been coming so far?”

Gabe walked up to give the charred feathers a better look. “We could just give her Dean, like she wants. All our problems solved.” 

“Gabe!” It was Charlie that protested that one first. She skipped forward to burrow under Dean’s arm and hugged him tight. “Even if that was an actual solution, I would never let you.” 

“Appreciate it, little fox.” Dean pulled her in closer. “Besides, you shot down Walt for the exact same idea,” he pointed out to Gabe. 

“This time it’s me voicing it. That makes it better automatically.” 

Dean rolled his eyes. They all turned at the sound of gravel crunching under boots to see Cas approaching. He was looking particularly good today, Dean thought, with his worn dungarees clinging tight around his thighs, and his lightweight blue cotton shirt open at the throat. The sleeves were rolled up to just below his elbows. 

“It is time to find a new approach,” Cas suggested. “Not surrendering Dean,” he shot a glare at Gabe, “but head out for a little while to see if we might draw some of the attacks away from Willow River. Amara wants Dean — and she has to be locking in on him when she sends the creatures she’s corrupted after him. If he’s not here, the attacks should stop.”

“If we head out of the fortifications, we’re going to need somewhere defensible to hole up,” Dean answered. “I wouldn’t mind getting out of here for a little bit, to be honest. I’m getting some looks make me think to expect my dinner to be poisoned one of these days.” 

Charlie glanced off towards Walt, who stood over near the Water gate, arms crossed and glaring at Dean. “I don’t know that’s such a great idea.”

“Probably not,” Dean agreed easily. “But neither is staying here. We still have patrols to run. You and Gabe haven’t stopped going out on your patrols.” 

“You’ll be able to conceal yourselves better if you head off on foot,” Gabe suggested. He brought his hand up to cup the back of Charlie’s neck, a gesture of support and comfort. 

“I’m not much a fan of the two of you heading off either,” Jody spoke up, frowning unhappily. “Something has to change, though. We’re running out of time to get the big supply run in from Rockville. We wait much longer, the big wagon won’t make it through and the winter is going to be more difficult than most.” 

“Dean and I will draw off the attacks, then,” Cas nodded decisively. “I’ll go speak to Ellen about getting supplies together for a long patrol.” He strode off towards the saloon before waiting on any sort of response. 

Dean watched him go, more than a little mesmerized by the view, until Donna jabbed him in the ribs with a sharp elbow. “You two make sure you come back, you hear? The apples are nearly ripe and I wouldn’t want you to miss out on a fresh batch of honey apple pie.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Dean pulled her in to a hug, took a bit longer than maybe strictly necessary. “That right there is more than enough incentive to make it back.” He finally let her go, pulled Jody in for a brief hug as well, and then followed after Cas to get packing. There were risks in leaving the safety of the settlement. Dean knew that. The two of them would be more exposed. The risks were worth it, though, if they were successful in drawing off the attacks. He also couldn’t help but feel a thrill at the idea of being out in the wilds again, able to stretch his legs and hunt in his shift form.

The thought of the two of them being alone for a while wasn’t so bad, either.

Gabe came up to them as they were stuffing the last few supplies into the pack Cas would carry. They had opted not to bring horses with them this time, for the animals’ safety. Dean planned to be in his shift form most of the time, which had many advantages but admittedly had the disadvantage of cutting their carrying capacity in half. “Here,” he said, extending a small leather pouch with long drawstrings towards Cas. “Take this. I re-spelled them.”

Cas took the pouch, opened it, and poured three small, rounded pink pebbles into his palm. 

“What’s that?” Dean asked, reaching over to take one and examine it more closely. There was a tiny sigil etched into one surface, a simple one.

“A crude method of communication that Gabriel and I developed some time ago,” Cas replied. “Gabriel holds a matching set. Each stone is paired with one of Gabe’s.”

“When it’s safe for you to return, I’ll trigger one of the sigils, and it will turn that pair green,” Gabe explained. “If something goes to hell, I’ll trigger a different one, and the set will turn red. That means get your asses back here and help. Or, worst case, black. If that happens, it means run far, run fast, and never come back.”

Dean shivered at that.

“It’s simplistic,” Cas continued, taking the pebble back from Dean and dropping them back into the pouch. “But it does work regardless of the distance between the paired stones. It also works both ways, so I could trigger them for Gabe to know if something befalls us.”

“Awesome.”

“Good thought, Gabriel. Thank you.” Cas looked at his brother, then opened his arms. Gabe stepped into them, and they embraced. “You take care of yourself as well as Willow River. I expect to see you well when we return.”

“You got it.” Gabe hugged tight, his hands clenched in Cas’ long beige canvas coat. 

Then he turned to Dean. “Okay, big guy.” He caught Dean in a hug, too, much to his surprise. “You take care of yourselves, got it? I’m not so sure Cassie would survive losing you.”

Dean hugged him back awkwardly, patting between his shoulders. “You guys, too, right?”

“Of course. Now get out of here.”

Cas hung the pouch around his neck, tucked it under his shirt, then nodded to Dean. Dean stepped back into his room, stripping quickly and efficiently, packing his clothes into his satchel, then shifting into cougar form. He brushed affectionately against Gabe and Charlie’s thighs before dropping the satchel at Cas’ feet. After packing that last bit away, Cas shrugged into the pack, and they were off.

-oOo-

The travel was slow going. Dean lead the way along the little-used trail, using all the advantages of his shift form. When it got too thick and overgrown, Cas used his magic to coax the heavy growth away from the path. 

Then there were the frequent attacks. Crows, foxes, deer… all with the black veining and black eyes, honed in on Dean. Once there was a wolverine. That one did some damage before Cas managed to destroy it.

He made Dean sit on a fallen tree trunk while he tended to the wounds on his arm. “Evidence would suggest that it is indeed you that she’s targeting,” he commented as he dabbed at the deep bite marks. Dean winced. “I’m not sure how she’s tracking you.”

“She got a taste of the flavor of my particular magic,” Dean pointed out. “Must be enough that she can tag her spells onto it when she’s turning more creatures, and setting them on me. You can do that, can’t you? To a certain degree?”

“With you, yes, but we’re bonded now. She isn’t.”

“I know.”

Castiel sighed and pulled enough magical energy to close up Dean’s wounds. “She is very powerful, very skilled. She’s working spells we’ve either forgotten or never knew to begin with.”

“On the bright side, seems more likely that Willow River really is being spared the attacks while they’re focusing on us. That is what we were planning on.”

Cas grunted reluctant agreement. He traced over the newly healed bite, then leaned in to kiss Dean gently on the cheek. 

Dean turned his head and caught his lips, smiling fondly. “Thank you. Time to hit the trail again.” 

-oOo-

_ *Cas.* _

Dean wasn’t too far away. They couldn’t afford to have much physical distance between them, for their own safety. He wasn't too far away, but currently out of sight. Cas pushed up a hill until he saw what Dean was looking at. 

“Ah, good. It is where I remembered it to be.” 

_ *Please tell me this isn’t what we’ve been aiming for. Please.* _ Dean sat down and wrinkled his nose in clear distaste. 

Cas was getting good at interpreting Dean’s expressions, cat form or no. The emotional link from the bond certainly didn’t hurt. 

“Don’t be dramatic, Dean. It isn’t so bad.” Cas stepped forward, towards the dilapidated homestead on the peak of the next rise. 

_ *Not so bad?* _ Dean followed behind him. _ *That building looks like a stiff breeze could knock it over.* _

“I’m sure there have been plenty of strong winds since it has been abandoned. It is still standing, isn’t it?” Cas didn’t feel quite as confident as he sounded, which could account for the look of disbelief he got in return. 

The house did look a bit rough. The clapboard, where it was still attached, was a weathered, dull gray. Half of the shutters were missing, the porch was sagging dramatically, and the entire building listed to the left. Surrounding vegetation was doing its best to reclaim the land, wrapping around railings and climbing up the siding. 

_ *Right,* _ Dean answered. _ *Barely standing.* _ Even so, he carefully made his way across the porch and pushed his head in through the front door. He sneezed a few times to clear the dust from his nose. _ *What is this place?* _

“Willow River wasn’t built until it became obvious that a fortified outpost was the only viable option for living this far west.” Cas followed in after Dean, careful to place his feet only where Dean had already tested the structure with his own weight. “There are a lot of abandoned homes where settlers had attempted to claim land for themselves.” 

_ *Attempted and failed.* _ Dean sat down in the front room and wrapped his tail around his feet. _ *Whoever lived here left in a hurry.* _

None of the windows were boarded up, all of the furniture looked to still be in place. Worse for wear, but still there. The roof was mostly intact. There had to be some leaks, judging by the water damage here and there, but it would do for temporary shelter. 

“Yes,” Cas agreed. “I can shore the structure up with magic, make sure it doesn’t all fall down on our heads. This is as good a place as any to make our stand until the supply wagon has had a chance to make it back to Willow River.” 

Since they had reached a point where thumbs were once again useful, Dean shifted, got dressed, and got to work on cleaning out the house as well as he could while Cas worked his magic to stabilize and ward the structure. 

“You aren’t hiding us?” Dean asked as he came across a group of sigils Cas had drawn. 

“No. We want to be found, keep attention on us and not the outpost. I’m making more sophisticated wards, ones that aren’t hiding us but are providing stronger than usual shielding. They’ll alert us when anything touches the perimeter. Hopefully fighting against the wards will weaken the attackers before we counter.” 

Most creatures would turn away when they encountered wards, but corrupted creatures were different. They would obey the compulsion set on them until they were physically unable to. Cas had seen more than one mortally wounded creature continue the attack, ignoring injuries and missing limbs. 

“Right.” 

-oOo-

The first attack came just as Cas finished scribing the last sigil on the door of the homestead. It was a coyote this time, lean and emaciated, throwing itself against the wards as the black veins crawled over its ribs. Dean shuddered. “I hate that this is happening to them,” he said. “I want this over. This has to stop.”

“I know. This one’s too far gone to heal. They all have been.” Cas didn’t like it either. 

“Do it, then.”

Cas nodded, drew energy from Dean, and sent a bolt through the wards to incinerate the creature where it stood. It howled and yipped in the instant before it turned to ash. Casting these spells was so easy, with Dean. None of this would have been possible with Nora. Not the strength of the wards, not the ease of the offensive spells. None of it. Now that he and Dean had accepted the most permanent form of bond, Cas was astounded by the breadth and depth of what he could do. It was intoxicating. Sometimes he felt as though there was nothing he couldn’t do.

By the time the building was shored up and cleaned up as much as they reasonably could the sun had set. There had been one more attack while they were settling in, but nothing in the hours since their dinner break. Cas nodded towards the porch, lifting his brow in question. Dean nodded in agreement. They settled down on a stable corner of the porch, still inside the wards, and looked up at the vast expanse of star-spangled sky. 

“It’s possible she’s run out of creatures to corrupt, within her reach,” Dean mused. He shuffled until he was on his back, his head resting on Cas’ lap.

“Possible,” Cas allowed. “I hope you’re right.”

“Not going to count on it, though, are you.” 

Cas reached down to play with Dean’s hair. He loved touching him like this, lightly scratching Dean’s skull, rubbing behind his ears, just being together. It seemed that Dean liked this sort of touch just as much in his human form as he did as a cougar. “No. I’m not. I am, however, content to rely on the strength of our protections for the time being and relax.”

“Been a while since we’ve been able to relax,” Dean agreed. Their walk here was long and tiring. If it weren’t for the rejuvenating magic Cas used on them they’d be utterly exhausted by now. 

Cas rubbed his thumb against Dean’s temple. “It’s a beautiful night. This is a nice location for a home, on the ridge like this. The views are amazing.”

Dean chuckled. “Not that we can see them right now.”

“We can see the stars.”

“Mm, true enough. Beautiful, aren’t they. So bright and clear. They go on forever.” Dean was utterly relaxed in Cas’ lap, his weight warm and heavy. He watched as lazy clouds scudded across the face of the moon, sometimes obscuring some of the stars, then revealing them again. “Hey, Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“You ever think about what you would do if you didn’t have to be fighting the corruption any more? If — when — we figure out how to take out Amara. What next, what after that?”

Cas’ fingers stilled for a moment before resuming their soothing massage of Dean’s scalp. “I confess I’ve not thought that far ahead. With you, everything is different. When the four of us first arrived here at the Frontier — Gabe, Charlie, Nora and I — we were content to have a place where we felt we could make a home and provide a much-needed service.”

“Do you ever miss the coast? The rest of your family?” Dean’s question was soft, tentative. That by itself touched Cas. Dean was rarely tentative, but with Cas he was careful, tender.

That was a complicated topic. Dean deserved a thoughtful answer. They had tied their futures together with the bonding, impulsively. Castiel didn’t regret that for a moment, but there were discussions they’d never had but should have. “I have Gabriel with me. I have little desire to spend any time with my other brothers, or my parents. My grandmother… I have fond memories of her, and some of my cousins, such as Balthazar.”

“Families. They’re something else, aren’t they? I miss mine like crazy, at least my immediate family. I promised them I’d be back after the year of our original contract was up, either just to visit or to stay if we didn’t decide to renew.” He laughed. “They’ll be surprised at this. At us.”

“Do you wish to return to New Avalon?” Cas asked carefully. His chest felt tight. He liked his life here, in Willow River, but he couldn’t deny Dean his family. 

“At least for the visit I promised, yeah.” Dean reached up and cupped Cas’ cheek in his palm. “Cas. You and I are a mated pair bond now. There is nothing that can come between us, nothing that can tear us apart. I do want to show you off to my parents, to Sam and Jess. I’ve been writing about you. They know you’re a good person, and that I am fortunate to be with you. If you’re not comfortable going to New Avalon, though… we’ll figure something out. Maybe we can meet them somewhere else, travel back east but not all the way.”

“I didn’t mean for a visit. I meant permanently.”

“Oh hell no,” Dean answered, immediately and vehemently. 

Cas relaxed. “No?”

Dean shook his head. “I like it out here. It suits me far more than the city does, even the outskirts of the city. Though if you want to go somewhere else, I’ll go with you. Being with you is more important than anything else.”

Cas leaned down to kiss him, then sat up again. “Returning to the topic of my family, I would like to speak with them, I believe. If there is any chance to repair my relationship with them, I should make the attempt. With you by my side the risks would be much lower.”

“Yeah. Not to be immodest or anything, but you and I together? I don’t think there are many who can match us.” Dean grinned then. “Michael and Lucifer would find that a tough thing to swallow, wouldn’t they.”

Cas chuckled. “If they are the same as they were when I left New Avalon, yes. I have little reason to believe they have changed.”

“So we’ll go back to the coast, catch up with family… Maybe I’ll try and talk mine to head out west, if it’s safer. I know Sam and Jessica want children, eventually. Wouldn’t want them out here with a baby right now, but if we succeed in healing the land enough, and if the corruption stops coming back after we’ve healed a spot… maybe.” He rolled off of Cas’ lap and sat up, shifting to pull Cas against him. “I’ll tell you one thing, though. If we make Willow River our permanent home base, we’re definitely building our own house. And it will _ not _ have peppermint stick stripes.”

-oOo-

The attacks slowed down but didn’t entirely stop. Even so, Dean found their stay at the abandoned homestead surprisingly relaxing. He and Cas worked on repairing the house between short forays into the surrounding area to check for corruption, or to hunt and forage for food. In some ways it felt like being on a honeymoon — all togetherness and domesticity, punctuated, frequently, with amazing sex.

That was why he couldn’t hold back a groan of disappointment the day Cas checked the pink pebbles, and one had turned a brilliant emerald green.


	12. Chapter 12

Life swiftly went back to normal after their return to Willow River. The supply run had been successful, so the community storage shed was full, and set to become more so after harvest. Taking care of winter prep between attacks by Amara was a challenge, but they made it work, somehow.

Dean knew intellectually that it was unlikely there would have been time for Sam to reply to his letter by the time they returned, but he was still disappointed when yes, there were letters from his family, but all were dated well before they could have received the request for more information about the sigils on Amara’s prison.

“This is driving me crazy,” Dean confessed to Cas. “We need to be _ doing _ something, not just sit here and responding to whatever she sends at us.”

“But what is it that we should be doing?” Cas countered. “We aren’t going to send any of the scouts there. It’s too risky. There aren’t so many of us that we can send anyone into a situation where they are unlikely to return, and I am not prepared for us to return there, either. Not without knowing more. You simply have to be patient, Dean. Sam will send us information.”

“I’m not good at patient.”

“I have observed that about you.” Cas smiled fondly, “Do you need to shift? You seem to be better at it as a cat.”

“I still have an immediate reason for it then. I can be still and wait if I know what I’m waiting for. This… this makes me want to crawl out of my skin.”

Cas reached out to rub his back. “Understood. I don’t particularly like the waiting, either, but in my judgment it’s still the better course of action.”

“Yeah, and even Gabe agrees. I know, I know. But I don’t have to like it.”

“No. You don’t have to like it.”

Dean didn’t say that he was worried Sam wouldn’t find anything that could help. He had to have faith. If anyone could, it would be Sam.

He just wished the kid would hurry up already.

-oOo-

The next afternoon, he heard a commotion in the commons. Looking up, he saw a horse trotting in — and a familiar form on top of that horse. The rider reined in and swung out of the saddle as a hawk cried and swooped down from the sky, coming to rest on the apex of The Saloon’s roof.

“Sam?”

Dean dropped everything and ran to the commons, pushing his way past anyone in his way.

Bobby stood before the newcomer, feet braced, his arms tensed in wary readiness, watching Sam. Gabe was there too, squared off in front of the horse. His hands were fisted, his chin lifted.

“What brings you to Willow River, Witch?” Gabe challenged him. His tone was civil, barely. Even from here Dean could sense the energy Gabe was gathering. Charlie moved to his side, her hair moving though there was no breeze. The embroidered flowers on Gabe’s long shirt shifted in color, ranging from dark purple to blood red to angry orange and then back again. 

Sam spread his hands in a universal gesture of peace. “Hello,” he said. His gaze flicked downwards, watching Gabe’s shirt for a moment, before he forced himself to look at the smaller man’s face again. Dean could almost hear his thoughts, wondering what the hell, while also secretly impressed. Wouldn’t be long before Sam was sporting mood-sensitive embroidery on his own clothing. 

Dean tapped Gabe on the arm as he slid past him.

“Sammy!” He threw his arms around his brother in a firm embrace, unbidden tears pricking at the back of his eyes as his brother’s familiar scent hit him like a punch, warmth and cinnamon and _ home _. “Damn, it’s good to see you. But what the hell are you doing here?” He held him close, fisting his hand in the fabric of Sam’s dusty coat. 

Sam wrapped him in his long arms, hugging back just as tightly. “Hey, Dean.” His voice was thick with emotion. “Thank God you’re here.”

Dean chuckled wetly, and settled back, keeping his arm around his brother as he turned to face the community.

“So. Everyone… I’d like you to meet Sam Winchester. My brother. Sam, this is… everyone.”

Gabe’s jaw dropped, but he quickly recovered. He dropped his hands to his sides, and the colors of his shirt stopped swirling, settling back to the normal peach and green on cream.

Just then Cas arrived, his hair wet, his shirt still unbuttoned. Dean’s gaze skittered for a moment at the sight of all that bare skin. He swallowed. “Heya, Cas.” 

Cas stopped, fingers moving to fasten the buttons of his shirt. 

Sam stepped forward, hand extended. “You’re Castiel Angelus,” he said, turning on his best manners. “I’m so pleased to meet you. Dean’s written of you in the most favorable terms.” Sam always had been better at the polite society thing than Dean. Maybe it was part and parcel of being a Witch.

Dean’s gaze shifted to Gabe. Then again, maybe not.

He turned to look up at the roof of the saloon and held out his arm. Jessica launched herself into the air with a single powerful beat of her wings, then soared down to settle on Dean’s forearm, her talons carefully curved around his skin without piercing. “Hey, Jess,” he greeted her fondly, stroking the feathers up from her beak between her eyes to her head. “It’s so good to see you.” 

She made a soft sound and nipped lightly at his ear, just enough to feel, not enough to hurt.

He turned back towards Cas. “And this is Jessica. Sam, you have her pouch?”

“Looped around the saddle horn,” he confirmed. 

Dean went to get it. “Come on, you can shift back at our place — and then you both can tell me what the hell you’re doing out here when you’re supposed to be back in New Avalon.”

-oOo-

The furniture in the Angelus household was proportioned for Castiel, as the tallest and broadest resident of Willow River. Dean, being of a similar size, fit comfortably. Sam looked as though he sat in furniture proportional to children. Every time he moved, his knees banged against the underside of the library table. The third time the candles wobbled dangerously, Cas flicked his fingers and affixed the candlesticks to the table with a small charm. He also created a protective bubble around the flame. 

Dean did not even notice the small draw of magic. He was occupied watching his brother pull book after book out of his satchel until the entire table surface was covered in leather bound parchment. Jess sat beside him, perched on the edge of her chair, watching everything intently.

The small house was crowded. In addition to the three Witches and their Familiars, Bobby, Jody, and Ellen were also present.

Gabe’s eyebrows shot up as he pulled one of the books towards himself. His fingers traced the wing pattern embossed into the leather cover. “This is from the private Angelus library.” 

“I know,” Sam answered as he paged through a slim volume. 

After Gabe’s comment, Cas looked more carefully at the books spread across the table. Many had the Angelus seal on them. Some were thick, some thin, some newer, some worn with age and use. One in particular grabbed his attention — red, the corners bent and broken, binding badly cracked, the cover inscribed with gilding reading ‘Codex Angelorum’. His fingers twitched with the need to reach out and touch it. Memories of sitting curled up in one of the library chairs at home with that book on his lap assailed him. He’d spent so many hours studying it, learning how to read the convoluted language, memorizing sigils developed long ago by some of the most renowned Witches in Angelus history. He’d hated to have left it behind when he removed himself from New Avalon. He was thrilled to see it again, but at the same time worried what this meant for Sam that it was now here in front of him. 

“Sam.” Cas’ voice was quiet and solemn. It was not the tone, though, but the underlying thrum of emotion which caused Dean to look up sharply. “Sam,” Cas repeated. “How did you come to have these?” 

Dean’s sudden predatory stillness pulled at Sam’s attention far more effectively than Cas’ tone. He finally paused to look up and meet Cas’ eyes. 

“I am not a Familiar, but I am a Campbell,” Sam answered after studying Cas for a moment. “Your brothers are each desperate for a permanent bonded Familiar that they feel can live up to their status and reputation. Campbell Familiars are the best. Giving me access to their library was a small price to pay for any contacts I could give them.” 

“These,” Gabe pointed out as his fingers tapped against the cover of one of the thicker volumes, “are not books that would have been left out where you could see them. Some of these are very old. They have been in the Angelus family for generations.” 

“Oh, no, they weren’t out.” 

“Sammy,” Dean rumbled at his brother, a hint of a growl in his voice. “I know that face. That’s the ‘Sammy did something really smart and really stupid all at the same time’ face. What did you do?” 

Jessica made an indelicate snorting sound from her seat perched atop one of the trunks. Sam shot her a quick look before returning his attention to Dean and the Witches. 

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault that Michael and Lucifer gave such an open-ended directive to their staff about giving me access to the library. It isn’t my fault they think if your name isn’t Angelus, you’re shit at magic. It isn’t my fault I’m so far beneath their estimation that I was left completely unsupervised right next to poorly maintained and easy to dismantle obscuring sigils. They were practically inviting me right into the private library collection to browse and borrow at my leisure.”

Gabe whistled, reluctantly impressed. “You have a giant set of balls, don’t you.” His eyes swept along the entire length of Sam — a look Sam missed as he went back to paging through the volume in his hands. Gabe smirked and looked at Cas. “I told them to let you take a look at the household protections.” 

“It’s to our benefit now that they did not listen,” Cas responded. 

“Here,” Sam finally found what he was looking for, and set the book down to show his brother. His finger tapped against a sigil drawn on the page. “This one matches the drawing that you sent me. Just as you thought, it’s a containment sigil. Or, at least, that’s what it was believed to do when it was used on Amara.” 

Dean pushed a book aside to give himself room to lean on the table and look down at the drawing. There was enough preservation magic imbued in the pages that the ink was still dark, but the writing was cramped and spidery. Dean snorted. “Way to be a cliché with the handwriting. Did Witches used to take classes on how to cause eye strain for future generations? What was it believed to contain, and what does it actually do?” 

“This sigil was originally thought to prevent a Witch from accessing magic. What it actually does is hide any and all Familiars from the Witch. The basic end result is the same, in most cases, hence the confusion.” 

“Most cases?” Cas asked for clarification, his eyebrows scrunched up in concentration. 

“Most,” Sam agreed. “I grew up with both my mom and my older brother being Familiars, I have Jess now. I haven’t had a lot of experience casting without. How did it feel to you, to try?”

“Small magics weren’t a problem,” Cas answered. “Anything I needed to pull energy from outside of myself, it was a fight. Results could be random. I didn’t try very often or for very long for fear the random result would also be destructive.” 

Sam nodded, as if that fit exactly with what he expected. “Drawing on larger amounts of power warps the magic. Tangles it. Makes it impossible to do what you actually intend to do.” 

“Corrupts it?” Dean asked, eyes narrowed in thought. 

“Exactly,” Sam bobbed his head, and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “Familiars are a deeply ingrained part of the magic. They’re like… they’re like heddles on a loom. They keep the threads of magic from tangling as a Witch pulls on and uses it. That sigil wasn’t preventing Amara from using magic like those Witches who created it thought. It prevented her from channeling through a Familiar and therefore controlling what the magic actually did. My theory is that, unlike Cas, that didn’t prevent her from trying. She’s been out there, for centuries, warping the magic.” 

Dean straightened. “When I scuffed that sigil, it broke enough for her to see me.” 

“Right. See you and want you. A Familiar is the solution to all of her problems. Especially one as strong as you are. If she can get the magic to do what she wants it to do, she can get out of that prison easily.”

That caused Cas to growl. “No. She can’t have him.” 

“Easy there, sweetheart.” Dean offered Cas a small smile, thrilled at the possessive note in his partner’s voice. “No, she can’t have me. She doesn’t know that. She doesn’t know we’ve completed the permanent bond.” 

Sam shot a sharp glance at Dean, his eyes going a little wide. Dean returned a small, delighted smile. He couldn’t help that reaction. Cas was… Cas was everything. 

Jess made a tiny choked sound, but then just smiled radiantly at him. She moved over to him, hugging him tight. He hugged her back, dropped a kiss against her temple. This wasn’t the time, yet, to talk about it. But soon. 

No way they would let that one go without asking him.

Sam cleared his throat and returned his attention to the matter at hand. “Maybe,” Sam started, carefully not looking at Cas, “Maybe we let her try. In order to pull magic through you, she would have to be completely open to you.” 

“Meaning,” Gabe added, “she would be completely open to Cassie.” 

“Exactly.” 

“No,” Cas stated firmly. “No. We are not turning Dean into the final battlefield. It could kill him.” 

“Cas.” Dean circled the table to stand right up in Cas’ space. “You would never let that happen. If this is what we need to do to stop the corruption here and now, this is what we _ need _ to do. The two of us together, we’re stronger than anyone.” 

“It wouldn’t be just the two of you,” Gabe said. “You may be the strongest pair, and Dean is what, who, she wants, but she’s going to have to deal with the rest of us, too. With me and Charlie. And I’m guessing Sam and Jess.”

Sam nodded. “Absolutely.”

“The rest of the community, too,” Bobby declared.

“Bobby…”

“Shut your trap, you idjit. If this is the big final fight, we aren’t leaving any of our assets on the table as a fallback position. We either win or we go out with guns blazing. There’s nothing in between.”

“I’d have to agree with Bobby,” Jody said, leaning back against the wall, her feet crossed at the ankles in a deceptively casual pose. “This is what we’ve been looking for, an opportunity to deal a huge blow to the corruption. Even if Dean and Cas are the key battleground, that doesn’t mean there won’t be, and shouldn’t be, any side skirmishes. She’s already proven she’s willing to send others to do her work.”

Ellen nodded. 

Dean frowned, feeling distinctly outvoted. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt on my watch.”

“Not your decision to make,” Jody pointed out. “We’re all adults. I can’t order anyone to participate, not really. No one signed any contracts. Well, other than you, Dean.” She smiled humorlessly. “And that contract is more or less void anyhow, now that you’ve done the life bond with each other.”

Cas glanced over at Dean, quickly, with affection. The bond was new enough that even under these circumstances, he couldn’t help but react with pleasure when it was mentioned.

“Let the record show I’m dropping my objections under protest,” Dean muttered.

“So noted,” Jody acknowledged. 

“I have not dropped my objections,” Cas pointed out, leveling a glare at everyone in turn. 

“Cas.” Dean turned towards his Witch, reaching to rest his hands over Cas’ wrists, holding his gaze. “If not me, she’ll eventually find another Familiar, one without a kick-ass Witch in his corner. We already know what she can do. Do we want to be responsible for her escaping and doing all of this again? Even with limited power she’s been Corrupting countless creatures and sending them after Willow River. We can’t go on like this. You’ve said as much yourself. Retreat might allow _ us _ to be safe, but what happens ten, twenty years from now? How far will her influence spread, now that it’s not checked so strongly? Rockville? Sainte Mareille? New Avalon?”

“Dean…” 

Dean stroked his thumb against the pulsepoint in Cas’ wrist. “I know, Cas. I know. I just… I couldn’t live with not doing anything. I don’t think you could, either.”

Cas made a frustrated sound deep in his throat, but he didn’t say anything.

After a moment’s silence, Bobby cleared his throat and started speaking. “All right then. Tell us everything you remember about the place you found her, and that encounter,” he directed. “And get yourselves something to drink. This is going to take some time.”

“Perhaps we should reconvene in the Saloon,” Ellen suggested. “And get the word out to the rest of the community. If everyone’s to be involved, everyone should know what’s going on. We’ve all lost people.”

-oOo-

The strategy session at the Saloon was loud and long, with high tensions and short tempers. Gabe had to pull everyone to order more than once with the crackle of energy. In the end, though, they emerged with a plan everyone more or less agreed to.

Dean stayed behind at a table with Sam and Jess when everyone else headed out, nursing a whiskey. *_ Come join us, Cas _ ,* he sent through their bond. * _ Let Sammy and Jess get to know their new brother-in-law a little better. _*

-oOo-

It takes two days to prepare. On the morning of the third day they head out towards the cave.

“I wish we could be sure if she was still contained,” Sam murmured as an aside to Dean.

“Too risky to scout.”

“I know that, but still.” He looked around, curious. Dean remembered that Sam hadn’t been here yet. Even finding his way to Willow River had been new for him. Dean wondered how successful he would have been if it weren’t for Jessica’s ability to soar high and spy the settlement from a distance. “We’ve got the plan. We’ll stick to it for as long as we can.” If there was anything he knew about plans, it’s that they rarely survived the first encounter with the opposition.

He was unsettled himself. Nervous. This was a risk, he couldn’t deny that to himself. The problem was that she had to be stopped. Had to be, and this? This was their best shot at it. Cas was the strongest Witch Dean had ever met, and he knew without any false modesty that he personally was capable of channeling and controlling for more magical energy than most Familiars. That was why Amara wanted him.

That was what made him the logical, perhaps the only, choice for this.

They pulled up roughly two miles from the cave. Everything was eerily quiet. There were no distant sounds of birds or other wildlife, not even with Dean’s enhanced hearing. He looked towards Jessica, who shook her head. As a hawk she was a sight hunter, and she was far more limited on the ground, but none of them were going to risk shifting until they had to.

Amara might want Dean, but there were no guarantees she wouldn’t take Charlie or Jess before she could get to him.

He turned towards his right and locked gazes with Cas. Cas still wasn’t happy about this. Dean could feel a twinge of sourness wrapped around the connection between them, just barely noticeable between the softer, warmer emotions. 

Maybe some of that started with him. He wasn’t all that happy about it himself. So many things could be wrong. Sure he was the one being served up on a platter, but in the end he was still a conduit, feeding and filtering the power but not actually using it. On top of that, Amara had an interest in keeping him alive and functional.

Cas? 

Not so much.

Dean swung down out of the saddle and moved over to Cas. He extended his hand to catch Cas’, tangling their fingers together and squeezing. “Storm on the horizon,” he observed. 

“Yes,” Cas agreed. “It doesn’t feel entirely natural.”

“Of course not. Think she knows we’re here?”

He nodded. “Yes. The question is if she can control her desire for you.” His hand tightened around Dean’s.

“Hey.” He turned towards his Witch, his partner, his mate. He lifted his free hand to Cas’ face, turning it towards him. “No matter what she wants, I only want you. Got it?”

Cas sighed. “Yes. I understand.” He leaned forward to place a kiss on Dean’s mouth, soft, almost reverent. “I feel the same. We will do this. We must.”

Dean was aware of Jody and Gabe directing the others in the background, sending them to their positions and giving final reminders of what the plan was. Sam and Jessica would be with one group, Gabe and Charlie with the other, which would enable them to communicate with each other in rudimentary fashion. The Familiars couldn’t speak with each other directly, but they’d worked out basic signals, and they could move much more quickly than any of the humans. 

“Guess this is it, then. Love you.” Dean curled his hand around the back of Cas’ neck and squeezed, then wrapped his arms around him in a fierce embrace. _ *I’ll be with you all the time,* _

“Yes. I know. Even so. Be careful, Dean.”

“Right back at you.” He stepped back and efficiently stripped out of his clothing, folding it neatly and placing it into the satchel. He handed the package to Cas before he shifted, feeling the sparkle and shimmer, the pull and stretch and pop as his body quickly transitioned from one form to the other.

It felt good to be a cat again. Dean stretched, spreading his paws and popping his claws out of their sheathes before retracting them again. He wound himself around Cas’ legs, head-butting him affectionately.

Cas’ hand dropped to rest on his head, lightly scratching at the base of his ears in the way he’d learned very early on Dean absolutely adored. 

_ *You will come back to me,* _ Cas said fiercely.

_ *Yes. I will.* _ He looked up and held Cas’ gaze for a long moment, then nodded and stepped out.

_ *Let’s do this.* _ As he moved forward, he deliberately pulled away from the link between the two of them.

-oOo-

Watching Dean move forward was one of the hardest things that Castiel had ever done, including leaving New Avalon in the first place, and even being unable to save Nora when she was attacked. Thinking of Nora right now was not a good choice. At the best of times his fond memories of her were underlaid with guilty feelings that there should have been something he could have done to prevent her death. At the worst times, his self-recriminations were nearly crippling.

He couldn’t afford that sort of distraction right now. 

The connection between himself and Dean right now was slender, nothing more than a tendril of awareness. That was part of the plan, but despite it being a deliberate choice, Cas hated it. It hadn’t been long, really, but already he was accustomed to the richness and depth of the full partnership bond between the two of them. He was accustomed to the constant presence of Dean in his mind, even if most of the time it was a dormant presence. There, but not obtrusive. He fancifully likened it in his mind to the cat form of his mate’s shift curled up on the hearth, asleep. There, definitely noticeable, but possible to disregard until he woke up and took up the whole of Cas’ attention.

All too soon Dean was no longer in his line of sight. Cas stood still, backbone stiff.

This had to work. It had to.

-oOo-

Dean made it to the top of the ridge, paused for a moment, tail flicking. In the distance the storm was building, green-black clouds with lightning dancing between them. He was certain it was her doing. Dramatic staging — but for all that, it still had the potential to wreak havoc. He suddenly wondered, incongruously, if he’d latched his window closed tightly enough before leaving.

He should be worrying about whether he was even going to make it back to Willow River. Not whether his bedding was going to get wet. Not like he even slept there any more, anyhow. 

So.

It looked the same as it had before, all chalk-white and desolate, the blocked-in cave still blocked in. That much, at least, was a relief. He’d been low-key afraid that she’d somehow managed to clear the boulders and had more freedom.

As he stood there the wind picked up. One moment the space before the cave was empty. The next, _ she _ was there, dressed in black, her dark red hair blowing in the wind. Artfully. She was beautiful, he couldn’t deny that. 

She slowly turned her head until she was looking straight at him.

“Ah. My invitation has finally been accepted,” she crooned. “You have come to me. Come closer, Dean. It is Dean, isn’t it?”

His tail whipped once, twice, before he controlled it. In this form he couldn’t talk, not to her. Only to Cas.

“Don’t tell me you’re shy, my darling.” She came forward, but stopped at the edge of the bleached out area. Interesting. Perhaps she couldn’t go any further than that, with the projection she was using. “Come to me.”

He hesitated. There was something inherently _ other _ about her that made the hair on his tail stand on end. If he’d been a longer-haired cat it would look like Charlie’s brush tail. 

Well. This was it. The whole plan hinged on her taking him. He had to appear at least willing, if reluctant. Truthfully, if this was the only way to stop what she’d been doing to Willow River, he actually would be willing. 

He just didn’t trust that it would stop if she had him, no matter what she claimed.

He wound his way down towards her, pausing only slightly before stepping over the invisible barrier she couldn’t cross.

A predatory smile crossed her lips, quickly controlled. She stepped forward, crouched down to his level. “Aren’t you a beauty. Look at those eyes. Beautiful.” She reached out, but her hand passed right through his head.

Even so, he felt a chill pressure exerting itself. “Open to me, pretty one,” she commanded. “Give me your power, if you want to stop the destruction I will heap upon your little riverside hamlet.”

Dean shuddered. This was it. This was the gamble they took. He lowered his head.

She laughed in triumph, reaching out with her mind to take. 

Despite his intentions to submit, he couldn’t stop himself from flinching when he felt the touch of her magic reaching into his and grabbing it. Rather than the gentle coaxing and invitation he’d grown accustomed to with Cas, she tore into his psyche with no regard for him, greedy and eager to taste the sheer power of a bond with a Familiar after… well. If Sam’s research was to be believed, after centuries of going without.

Her touch was vile, black, oily like the secretions of corruption he and Cas had cleansed over and over again. She dove into the well of his energy reserves, scooping them up greedily. 

In the distance the clouds boiled up, stronger, darker, the lightning coming faster and more furiously. Winds kicked up even stronger. 

“You did not come alone,” she said, standing again. Reaching out with one hand, she stretched towards the boulders blocking the cave. A crackling sheet of pure power surged from her hand, crackling and sparking, exploding the boulders in shards of stone. Dean ducked down, belly flat against the stone. “That was an error.”

She lifted her face to the sky after the caves opened, disappeared, then reappeared in the mouth of the cavern.

The new version of Amara was just as beautiful, though somewhat hardened around the edges, and the clothes were definitely the worse for wear.

She gestured, and he was drawn towards her against his will. 

“I will have your power, little Familiar. For too long I have been without, making do with what I could do on my own. You… you are like the richest of wines, aren’t you. So pure, so powerful. What I can do with you…” She laughs. “We’ll start by showing your companions how futile disobeying my orders was. They will pay. Oh yes, they will pay.”

She opened the connection between them wide and unfettered, prepared to pull the greatest amount of magic possible from him. He could taste the ozone taint of her power, twisted and dark. It was terrifying.

This was it. Now.

He dug his claws into the stone, hard enough that he was certain he was actually penetrating the surface, and tugged at the tendril linking him with Cas, giving him a quick warning before surrendering, opening himself completely to Amara — and to Cas.

The moment he opened that connection he felt the contrast between the two; Amara was all darkness and corruption, while Cas was light and breath. Cas was ready when the pathways opened. Immediately, before Amara even realized he was there, he sent through a spear of pure magical energy. Dean roared, and the spear shot from his mouth into the woman, white heat, a triangular blade of pure magic.

She shrieked as the magic penetrated her, her limbs all glowing. Then she fell back, dropped to the ground, aging before his eyes. Centuries, he remembered. She became an old woman, then an ancient one, then beyond ancient, until she shriveled, dried up, and crumbled into dust that blew away on the wind.

In the distance, the clouds dispersed, leaving the sky bright and blue with the autumn sun.

The sudden backrush of magical energy surged through Dean and into the ground, knocking him out cold.

-oOo-

“Oh, hey. There you are.” 

Dean opened his eyes, blinked a couple times to focus them. He was human again, and Sam was sitting cross-legged at his side. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey. Here, I bet you want something to drink.” He held a flask to Dean’s mouth, gently supporting his head, raising it enough to pour some blessedly cool water into his mouth. The water had a metallic tang to it from the flask, some mineral aftertaste, and was the best thing he’d ever drank.

Dean swallowed, raised one shaky arm to wipe the bit of water that dribbled out of the side of his mouth. “Cas?”

Sam smiled, huffed an affectionate laugh. “Right there.” He gestured towards the other side of the — tent? They were in a tent. Light was filtered through the canvas of the ceiling, dappled from trees overhead. So they were still in some sort of a camp, rather than back in Willow River.

Dean turned his head, saw Cas lying on the other side of the tent. “What happened? He okay?” A thrill of fear spiraled through him. It was supposed to be him that was in danger. Not Cas.

“He will be. The spell he channeled through your bond was powerful, the most powerful spell I’ve ever seen, honestly. He pulled in so much energy that he was literally glowing. His eyes were shining. Then, when you opened the link and he pushed it through… he didn’t hold anything back. Nothing at all. He collapsed. He’s okay, though. Gabe checked him over, and so did I.”

“Gabe’s better at that sort of thing than you are.”

“Yeah, I know, but I still had to. Cas is everything to you. I had to know for myself.”

Dean nodded. Fair enough. “How’s Jess? Charlie, everyone else?”

“Exhausted. Not quite as exhausted as you are, but still. Resting, but otherwise good. It was over fast. Not too much time for people to get hurt, honestly. Thankfully. You should sleep some more.”

“No. I mean… yeah, but…” He looked over at Cas again.

“Pad’s not really big enough for both of you.”

“Make it work.”

Sam sighed. “Yeah, okay. Here.” He held out his arm and used his strength to help Dean move from his bedding over to Cas’. 

As soon as Dean was close enough to reach out and touch Cas, to feel the warmth of his skin under his fingers, something settled. Cas stirred slightly, shifted towards Dean. 

“You good?” Sam asked, taking the blankets and arranging them over the two of them, gently tucking them in around their legs.

“Yeah. Thanks, Sammy.” Dean looked at his brother gratefully.

“Thank _ you _. You’re the ones that did all the work.”

Dean shrugged, winced. Apparently he’d pulled something somewhere along the way. 

“Anyhow. I’ll leave you now. Get some more sleep. If you’re well enough we’re heading back to Willow River in the morning.”

“We’ll be good.” As soon as Cas had regained enough energy, Dean had little doubt that he’d be Healing himself and anyone else that needed it, including the horses. Dean would be right beside him, making sure all of the magic he used came through their bond, rather than his innate power. 

“Yeah. You will be.” Sam clasped him on the shoulder, then quietly exited the tent, closing and fastening the tent flap behind himself.

Dean shifted onto his side, looking at Cas’ beautiful, precious face. He leaned forward to drop a light kiss on his lips. “Love you,” he murmured, then shifted to pull the other man closer against himself before he let himself slip into sleep once more.

-oOo-

Cas gradually came back to consciousness, feeling safe and warm. His hip was perhaps slightly sore where it pressed on an unforgiving surface, and was there a rock there, too? He shifted.

“Hey there,” Dean’s low, warm voice crooned against his ear. “You back in the land of the living?”

Cas grunted, then forced one eye open. “Hello, Dean,” he croaked. “You’re here.” He moved his hands, grasped Dean’s shirt tightly in his fingers.

“I’m here,” Dean agreed. He moved forward and brushed the softest of kisses against Cas’ brow, opening the link between them, flooding Cas with love and comfort. Cas sighed. It felt so good, so unbelievably good.

He basked in it for a long moment before he remembered. “Amara?”

“Gone,” Dean was quick to assure him. “That spell was badass. You’re amazing.”

“I am, aren’t I,” Cas agreed, and Dean laughed. “You can show me how much when my head no longer feels as though it will split in two.” 

“I’ll show you how much every day. I promise. Every day.” He dipped down to press a soft kiss to Cas’ lips. “Every day.” 


	13. Chapter 13

**-Epilogue-**

Dean made sure his trunk was secure in the back of the wagon, then circled around to scratch Smoky’s forehead as they waited for Cas to emerge from Peppermint Stick house with his own trunk. It had been a dry spring so far, not great for the crops but it did mean the road to Rockville would be dry enough to chance the wagon. Sam sat astride the horse he'd ridden in on from Rockville, quietly waiting. Jess had already shifted, and was soaring in lazy circles overhead. The two of them had elected to stay the winter after defeating Amara, Sam studying with Gabe and Cas while Jess worked with Dean and Charlie to map out more of the territory around Willow River.

“We’re going to miss you, buddy,” Dean told the horse. “We’ve been through a lot together. You, me and Cas. We don’t have the funds to get a stock car for you on the train back to New Avalon. Besides, they need you more here, huh? Especially with all the new people flooding in.” 

Word had gotten out that the source of the corruption had been cleared. Now that the winter storms were over, more people arrived at Willow River every day. They were going to have to either expand soon, or branch off to a new outpost. Whatever was decided, Dean wasn’t going to be here to take part. He was going back to New Avalon to introduce his Witch to his parents. 

Cas finally appeared at the doorway with Charlie and Gabe at his heels. “Need help, sweetheart?” Dean asked. 

“No, Dean. I’ve got this.” He set his trunk in the bed of the wagon, then hopped up to bring it to the front where Dean’s was sitting. 

Gabe tucked his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Try not to let Cassie get reeled into any Angelus politics,” he told Dean. 

He and Charlie were staying. There was still corruption to clean up after all, and neither of them were too interested in visiting New Avalon. Besides, Charlie was enjoying getting to know Ellen’s daughter Jo who had returned to the outpost to visit her mom. 

Charlie walked into Dean’s arms and gave him a big hug. He pulled her in and kissed the top of her head. 

“I’ve no control over what Cas does or doesn’t do. I’ll keep him safe, that’s the most I can offer,” he replied to Gabe. 

“I’ve no desire to get dragged into anything to do with Michael or Lucifer,” Cas answered for himself. “With luck, Balthazar will be the only one to know I’m there.” He took his turn hugging Charlie. “We’ll be back this way soon enough. Neither one of us want to make the big city our home.” 

“You better,” Charlie told them. She punched Cas’ shoulder. “Who's going to make me breakfast, now?” 

“You may have to learn to do it yourself,” Cas answered her solemnly. “Or talk miss Jo into it.” He winked. 

One more round of hugs, and Dean and Cas hopped up into the wagon. They’d said their good-byes to everyone else the night before, spent too long in the Saloon for their heads to thank them this morning. Jody and Donna were already in Rockville, and would be taking over the wagon to bring it, and Smoky, back with them to Willow River.

A few more words of good-bye, and they were out the gates headed towards Rockville and the longer journey beyond. 

There was still a lot of uncertainty into just what the future held, but that was true of everyone. Dean had Cas, now, and that was all he really needed to meet it head on. 

The End


End file.
